Confessions Of A Ghost-hunter

By the same Author

Thb Sceptic (Psychic Play)

IlBraA-noNS of a Spirit Medium (Jomt Editor with
E. J. Dingwall)

Com Light on Spiritualistic ‘Phenomena’

Sthua C.: an Account of Some Original Experi-
ments in Psychical Research
Illusionbmo (Enaclopedia Itahana)

Rudi Schneideh: a Scientific Examination of Ha
Mediums hip

Regurgitation and the Duncan Mediumship

An Account of Some Further Experiments with
Rudi Schneider

Leaves from a Psychht’s Cash-Book
The Haunting of Cashbn’s Gap: a Modern ‘Miracle’
Investigated (m Collaboration with R. S.Lambert)
Faith and Firb-Waixinc (Encyclopctdu, Britannic*)

A Report on Two Experimental Fire-Walks

valkmg over red-hot embers during first fire-walk
r held m Great Britain, September 9, 1935.

(S« pap 369)

CONFESSIONS OF A
GHOST-HUNTER

BY

HARRY PRICE

HONORARY BBC JUT ARY, UNIVBMITY 07 LONDON
COUNCIL FOR PSYCHICAL INVESTIGATION

PUTNAM

COVFNT GARDFN TONDON

First Published February If>y6

Contents

Foreword - -- -- -- 7

I. The Ghost that Stumbled ij

II. The Most Haunted House in England - 25

HI. Some Adventures in Haunted Houses 36

IV. The Strange Exploits of a London Polter-

geist ------ - 55

V. ‘Grand Hotel’ and Other Mysteries 65

VI. The Talking Mongoose 85

VII. Some Curious Claims to Mediumship 98

VIII. From Kensington to the Planet Mars - - 117

IX. The Strange Case of Madame X - - 131

X. How to Test a Medium - - - - 140

XI. Secrets of ‘Spirit’ Photography - - - 168

XII. Convincing Experiments with a French

ClAIRVOYANTE ------ 209

Xm. Rudi Schneider: the Last Phase 226

XTV. New Light on the Abrams ‘Magic Box’? - 237

XV. Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘Pheno-

mena’ ------- 253

XVI. A Clever American Hyper^sthetb - 278

XVH. A Tyrolean Night’s Entertainment - - 286

XVm. Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist - 297

XEX. ‘The Man with the X-ray Eyes’ - 312

XX. Pale Black Magic ----- 322

4 Contents

XXL *1 Have Seen the Indian Rope Trick’ - - 344

XXIL How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England - 355

Index - -- -- -- -383

List of Illustrations

Kuda Bux walking over red-hot embers daring first
fire-walk ever held in Great Britain, September
9, 1935 -------- Frontispiece

The author’s ghost-hunting kit ----- 32

Madame Eugenie Picquart in the impersonations of
(1) ‘Coquehn’; (2) an old French judge; (3)
Mephistophelcs; (4) Egyptian mummy - 102

‘Spirit’ photographs of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, etc.,
showing cut-out effect ------ 178

Effect of radio-active minerals on a sealed box of
photographic plates ______ 204

Marion ‘finding’ a pre-selected playing card - - 254

Marion psychometrising a letter ----- 262

‘Sentry-box’ apparatus used m Marion experiments - 266

Marion making a ‘trial’ of a tin box as to whether it
contains a hidden object _____ 272

Plywood shroud and visor, constructed for tests with
Marion ________ 276

Kuda Bux, blindfolded, duplicating shorthand characters
drawn on a blackboard ------ 316

Mr. Harry Price on the site of the Brocken Goethejahr
experiment --------338

Karachi and his son, Kyder, performing the Indian rope
trick - -- -- -- -- 348

Kuda Bux’s feet being medically examined by physician
immediately before final fire-walk, September 17,
i93j - 364

6 List of Illustrations

Mr. Digby Moynagh attempting the fire-walk at final

test, September 17, 1935 - 364

Kuda Box’s feet, quite uninjured, after first fire-walk,
September 9, 1935 ------- 370

Kuda Bux performing the fire-walk at final test, Sep-
tember 17, 1935 ------- 374

Illustrations in the Text

The Martian alphabet, complete - 126

Signature of Oomaruru ------ 126

‘Thank you!’ in Martian ------ 126

Head of Pawleenoos, ‘cultured Martian giant’ - - 127

‘Symphonic chant’ of the Martians - 127

Detector used m radio experiments - - - - 243

Kuda Bux’s signatures, in Kashmiri characters - - 313

Collection of eighteenth-century Sussex love-tokens,
charms, or witch-scarers (reduced) - 325

Reproduction of handbill of James Hallett, the Sussex
charlatan. Note the reference to the cure of Witch-
craft. Chichester, 1795-97 ----- 327

Reproduction of halfpenny bronze token of James
Hallett, the Sussex charlatan ----- 328

Foreword

The science of investigating alleged abnormal phenomena
has, like most other sciences, advanced by leaps and bounds
during die last few years. Before the War a back parlour, a red
lamp, a circle of credulous sitters and a vivid imagination were
all that was thought necessary in order to ‘investigate’ a medium.
Of course, psychic science made no progress. The methods of
these researchers were derided by official science and orthodoxy
refused to listen to them.

But with the War came a change. A wave of interest in the
possibility of an after-life swept the country like a tornado. This
interest was purely emotional, based as it was on the fact that
tens of thousands of the flower of our manhood were being shot
down. Relatives mourned them, but with their grief was the
hope — almost the belief— that their sons, though dead, would
survive in another world. The ranks of the spiritualists over-
flowed with those who hoped

But the great wave of emotion that swept the country carried
on its crest a few sane people who, while admitting the possi-
bility of an after-life, demanded that the alleged phenomena
said to be produced in the stance-room should be scientifically
investigated by qualified and unbiased persons. To meet this de-
mand I founded (1925) the National Laboratory of Psychical
Research which, in June 1934, was taken over by the Univer-
sity of London Council for Psychical Investigation. Most of the
cases recorded in these Confessions were investigated by me as
Director of the National Laboratory.

Where shall we go when we die? I am afraid there is nothing
in this volume that will supply an answer. The answer may be

8 Foreword

there, but perhaps I cannot read it. For thirty yean I have been
engaged upon an intensive quest as to what happens after death,
and the solution of the eternal problem still eludes me. The
spiritualists will tell you that they have evidence that die soul,
ego, or personality not only survives the grave, but that the dis-
camate endues of their loved ones ‘come back* and converse
with diem through a person of abnormal sensibility who is
called a ‘medium*. My reply to die spiritualists is that, though I
admit some of the phenomena which they obtain at stances,
there is no scientific proof of survival. The evidence upon
which the supporters of the spirit hypothesis base their claims is
obtained principally through ‘mental* mediums (such as clair-
voyants) who purport to interpret supemormally the voices of
those who, as they term it, have ‘passed over*. Let me say at
once that much of the evidence obtained through clairvoyants
and trance mediums is very impressive; that is, impressive as to
the abnormality of the communications which they deliver m a
state of what is called a trance — though what a mediumistic
trance is, no one knows, and it cannot be tested.

But I cross swords with the spiritualists as to the causation of
the phenomena which we both admit. I am told that the
'messages’, etc., obtained through an entranced psychic are
‘evidential*. I agree, but evidential of what? They are evidential
only of their abnormality — not that they were uttered by, or
inspired by, the spirits of those who were once living.

Our knowledge of the conscious mind is really very limited;
our ignorance of the subconscious mind is profound. Is it, then,
very remarkable that science suggests that these so-called spirit
messages (even when uttered by mediums who are honest) may
come from die subconscious mind of the entranced medium, or
(by telepathy) from the conscious or subconscious mind of the
sitters? Unfortunately, we have no scientific evidence that even
telepathy is a fret. But, the spiritualists argue, the mediums tell
us things which were unknown both to themselves and their

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 9

sitters. This I am prepared to admit, but does that prove spirit
origin? Of course it does nothing of the kind; it proves merely
that the medium has, in some obscure way, obtained knowledge
unknown to any person present at the stance. It does not prove
survival

Assuming that the information obtained abnormally was
known only to a dead person, that, too, would not prove sur-
vival or that there are spirits: but it might prove the existence of
what has been termed the ‘psychic factor’.1 The psychic factor
has been suggested as an intangible ‘something’ possessed by a
person which may survive the grave. The theory is that, at
death, this psychic factor (not to be confused with the soul or
personalty) may linger on awhile and, under certain conditions,
combine with the mind of an entranced medium. From this
combination — it is suggested — emerges another mind, made up
partly from the mind of the medium and partly from that
‘something’ which once belonged to the dead person. This
theory has been termed the ‘emergent theory’. Assuming that
there is any truth in the ‘emergent theory’, it is very easy to see
how an entranced medium’s utterances may include frets known
only to a dead person; but it does not prove the survival of the
soul ego, or personality. And obviously it does not prove that
the dead can return to earth, and behave like the living.

In my work, Leaves from a Psychist's Case-Book ,* I gave sev-
eral instances of how the most extraordinary information,
alleged to emanate from the spirits of dead persons, was re-
ceived by a medium in trance. The most striking incident was
where the alleged spirit of Lieutenant Irwin came back within
forty-eight hours of the crashing of the Rioi airship and gave

1Sce The Mind and Its Place in Nature, by C. D. Broad, London, 1925.
(The Tamer Lectures, delivered in Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1923.)
The author suggests an ‘emergent theory’ based on an assumed ‘psychic
factor’.

•Gollancz, London, 1933.

io Foreword

a circumstantial, detailed, and highly technical account1 of the
disaster. The psychic was Mrs. Garrett, the British trance
medium, who does not know one end of an airship from the
other. The sitters present at the stance were also quite ignorant
of such a highly-specialised business as navigating an airship;
yet ’Lieutenant Irwin’ gave particulars of the Rioi which were
semi-official secrets, and which were afterwards confirmed at
the public inquiry. Where did the information come from?
From the spirit of Irwin? Perhaps, but we cannot prove it.

Another problem that confronts the dispassionate investiga-
tor is the contradictory accounts of how and where spirits
dwell. Sir Oliver Lodge’s ‘Raymond’* gives us a picture of life
in the Summerland that appears very little different from our
condition on earth. He describes the same pains and pleasures
experienced by mortals, and no normal person would make
undue haste to join him. And it must be admitted that Ray-
mond imparts to us no knowledge that can be regarded as
transcendental. Another ‘spirit’ will give us a totally different
description of obviously, a totally different place. It will talk of
‘spheres’, where the discamate advance in stages towards some
goal. Some other medium will tell an entirely different story as
to what happens when we ‘pass on’. And the accounts of Sum-
merland as we hear them to-day differ from those which were
recorded fifty years ago. Can we doubt that these descriptions
of die after-life are drawn from the conscious or subconscious
mind of the medium who happens to be relating the story?

I repeat that nothing transcendental has ever been received
from any spirit who has ‘returned’. We have discovered no dis-
camate Shakespeare or Michelangelo; not one iota has been

1See Leaves from a Psyckist’s Case-Book, by Harry Price, London, 1933,
pp. 118-32.

•See: Raymond: or. Life Afeer Death, by Sir Oliver Lodge, London [1916];
abo Raymond: Some Criticisms, by Viicount Halifax, London, 1917; and
Some Revelations as to ‘ Raymond f; an Authoritative Statement by a Plain
Citizen, London [c. 1916]

II

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
added to our art, literature, or learning. On die contrary, most
of the stuff that trance mediums pour forth is the veriest
twaddle. Even the spiritualists themselves are beginning to
realise this, just as the more reputable spiritualist journals are
now ruthlessly exposing the fraudulent medium who battens
on the credulity of the ignorant and the wretchedness of die
bereaved.

Although I have emphasised that we have no scientific proof
of ‘survival’, I must admit that the spirit hypothesis can be made
to explain many of those mysteries, both in and out of the
stance-room, which have intrigued me for so many years.
Some of the cases recorded m this volume become more intelli-
gible if the reader is a spiritualist. Such curious incidents as ‘die
ghost that stumbled’, the London Poltergeist , the most haunted
house, the ghost of the Unter den Linden, my disturbed night
m the sleeping-car, and the adventures in haunted houses, can
all be explained if one is prepared to admit that the dead can
return and manifest in the same way as the living. But is that the
answer? I wonder. As yet there is no answer, though a number
of scientists and others, and certain universities, are trying to
supply one.

I have endeavoured to make these Confessions as diverse as
possible. I have also tried to make them readable. For those who
want more detailed, technical and analytical reports of certain
of the cases (some of which were published in The Listener dur-
ing the summer of 1935), the original protocols are available.
But they are of more interest to the student than the general
reader. Almost the entire gamut of alleged abnormal manifesta-
tions can be found within the two covers of this volume. From
fire-walking to hysteriacs, and from a ‘talking mongoose’ to a
trip to Mars (via the stance-room) the reader has a wide choice
of ‘miracles’ to choose from. I have purposely refrained from
stressing the seamy side of spiritualism. The public is sick and
tired of the fraudulent ‘psychic’ and his rather stale tricks. If I

ra Foreword

have devoted little space to die charlatan, I have described at
some length the attractive entertainments of the vaudeville
‘medium* whose clever and instructive performances have been
rather neglected by experimenters. The work of such men as
Marion, Kuda Box, Dr. Mdvor-Tyndall, Maloitz, etc., will, I
am sure, be a revelation to the uninitiated. Finally, I hope the
chapter on how to test a medium will prove of real value to
those readers whose interest in psychical research is active rather
than academic.

H. P.

CONFESSIONS OF A GHOST-HUNTER

I. The Ghost that Stumbled

My first ‘ghost’ was made of cardboard. I will hasten to
explain that it was the ‘property’ spectre of a three-act
psychic play, ‘The Sceptic’, which I wrote and produced1 when
I was still a schoolboy. Of course I took the principal part my-
self, and I am sure I played the hero with considerable histrionic
verve!

The reason I mention my early attempt at portraying the
supernatural is because ‘The Scepnc’ was the dramatised record
of a remarkable experience which befell me when I investigated
my first haunted house.

As a member of an old Shropshire family, I spent nearly all
my holidays and school vacations in a little village — m fact, a
hamlet— which I will call Parton Magna. In Parton Magna is
the old Manor House, circa a.d. 1600. It had been purchased by
a retired canon of the Church of England, and his wife. There
were rumours that the place was haunted— but popular tradi-
tion provides a ghost for every old country house, especially if a
tragedy has taken place within it.

Within a very few weeks of the canon’s settling down with
lus household in their new home, reports were received of curi-
ous happenings in the stables and out-buildmgs. Though fas-
tened securely overnight, stable doors were found ajar in the
morning. Animals were discovered untethcred and wandering;
pans of milk were overturned in the dairy, and utensils scat-
tered about. The woodshed received the attentions of the
nocturnal visitant nearly every night. Piles of logs neady

*At die Amenham Hall, Lewisham, on Friday, Dec. 2, 1898. For doenp-
non, »ec South London Press, Dec, 10, 1 898.

1 6 The Ghost that Stumbled

stacked were found scattered in the morning, in spite of the
fact that the door of the shed was kept locked. The manifesta-
tions in the woodshed became so frequent and troublesome that
it was decided to keep watch. This was done on several eve-
nings, a farm-hand secreting himself behind a stack of logs.
Upon every occasion when a watch was kept on the wood,
nothing happened inside the shed. On those nights when the
shed was watched from within, pebbles were flung on to the
corrugated iron roofing, the noise they made rolling down the
metal being plainly heard. Then a watch was kept both inside
and outside of the shed, but no one was seen, though the peb-
bles were heard as before. The experienced reader will recog-
nise m my narrative a Poltergeist case running true to type.

The disturbances around the house continued with unabated
vigour week after week until even local mterest waned some-
what. Then, quite suddenly, they almost ceased, the disturbing
entity transferring its activities to the inside of the mansion,
which I will now describe.

The Manor House was built for comfort, though it has been
restored at various times. From the large hall a wide staircase
leads to a landing. At the top of the stairs (of which there are
about fifteen — but I am speaking from memory) is, or was, a
solid oak gate placed across to prevent dogs from roaming over
the whole house. The staircase I have mentioned leads to the
more important rooms opening out of a short gallery.

The first indication received by the canon and his family that
the entity had turned its attention to the interior of the house
was a soft ‘pattering’ sound, as of a child’s bare feet running up
and down the wide passage or gallery. The noises were at first
taken to be those caused by a large bird or small animal out of
the fields; a watch was kept, but investigation proved fruitless.
These same noises were heard night after night, but nothing
could be discovered. Then the maids commenced complaining
that the kitchen utensils were being disturbed, usually during

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 17

their absence, in the daytime especially. Pots and pans would
fall off shelves for no ascertainable reason when a maid was
within a few feet of them, but always when her back was turned.
I do not remember its being proved that a person actually saw a
phenomenal happening of any description, though many were
heard. Another curious circumstance connected with this case
was the disturbing entity’s fondness for raking out the fires dur-
ing the night. The danger of fire from this cause was so obvious
that, before retiring to rest, the canon’s wife had water poured
on the dying embers.

Like every old country house worthy of the name, the
Manor, Parton Magna, had a ‘history’ which at the period of
my story was being sedulously discussed by the villagers. The
story is that the house was built by a rich recluse who, through
an unfortunate affaire de coeur, decided to retire from the world
and its disappointments. A niece, who acted as chatelaine,
looked after the old man and managed his servants. One night,
some few years after their settlement at the Manor House, the
recluse became suddenly demented, went to his niece’s apart-
ment and, with almost superhuman strength, strangled the girl
in bed. After this most unavuncular act the old man left the
house, spent the night in the neighbouring woods and at day-
break threw himself into the river that runs through the fields
near die house. The legend, like the Poltergeist, also runs true to
type. Like most traditions, there is a gram of truth in the
story, the fact being that many years previously a girl named
Mary Hulse had died at the Manor under suspicious circum-
stances.

It can be imagined that the canon’s health was suffering under
the anxiety caused by the disturbing events I have recorded
above, and he was persuaded to leave the house for at least a
short period. This was in the early autumn. On my way bade to
school for the Michaelmas term I broke my journey at Parton
Magna in order to stay a few days with our friends, who then

18 The Ghost that Stumbled

made me acquainted with the state of affairs at the Manor
House; in fact, it was the principal topic of conversation. The
canon and his household had by then vacated their home tem-
porarily, the premises being looked after by the wife of one of
the cowmen. What really drove the family out was the fact
that the nocturnal noises were becoming greater; in particular,
a steady thump, thump, thump (as of someone m heavy boots
stamping about the house), disturbing the rest of the inmates
night after night. I decided I would investigate, and invited a
boy friend to jom me m the adventure.

Permission to spend a night in the Manor was easily obtained
from the woman (who lived m a cottage near the house) who
was looking after the place, and doubtless she regarded us as a
couple of mad schoolboys who would have been much better
in bed.

I must confess that I had not the slightest idea what we were
going to do, or going to see, or what I ought to take with me
in the way of apparatus. But the last question was very soon
settled because all I had with me was a J-plate Lancaster stand
camera. On the morning of the adventure I cycled mto the near-
est town and bought some magnesium powder, a bell switch, a
hank of flex wire, two Darnell’s batteries and some sulphuric
acid. A big hole was made m my term’s pocket money! In the
afternoon I assembled my batteries and switch and prepared the
flash powder by means of which I hoped to photograph — some-
thing! So that there should be no unwillingness on the part of
the magnesium to ‘go off’ at the psychological moment, I ex-
tracted the white smokeless gunpowder from four or five
sporting cartridges and mixed it with the magnesium powder.
By a lucky chance I had with me a delicate chemical balance
which I was taking back to school. With the weights was a
platinum wire ‘rider’ which I inserted in the electrical circuit in
order to ignite the magnesium flash-powder. With the above-
mentioned impedimenta, a box of matches, some candles, a

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 19

stable lantern, a piece of chalk, a ball of string, a box of rapid
plates, a parcel of food, the camera and accessories and (forbid-
den luxury!) some cigarettes, we bade a tender farewell to our
friends and made our way across the fields to the Manor House,
where we arrived at about 9.30 p.m.

The first thing we did when we reached our destination was
to search every room and attic, and close and fasten every win-
dow. We locked the doors of those rooms which were capable
of being treated in this manner and removed the keys. The
doors leading to the exterior of the house were locked, bolted
and barred, and chairs or other obstacles piled in front of them.
We were determined that no material being should enter the
portals without our cognisance. After we had searched every
nook and cranny of the building, we established ourselves in die
morning-room, locked the door and waited for something — or
somebody — to ‘turn up’. Our only illumination was the light
of the stable lantern which we placed on the table.

At about half-past eleven, when we were beginning to get
very sleepy and wishing (though we did not admit it) that we
were in our nice warm beds, my friend thought he heard a
noise in the room overhead (the traditional apartment of the
unfortunate Mary Hulsc). I, too, had heard a noise, but con-
cluded it was caused by a wandering rodent or the wind. It did
not sound an unusual noise. A few minutes later there was a
‘thud’ in the room above which left nothing to the imagination.
It sounded as if someone had stumbled over a chair. I will not
attempt to describe our feelings at the discovery that we were
not alone in the house: for a moment or so we were almost
paralysed with fear. But, remembering what we were there
for, we braced up our nerves and waited. Just before midnight
we again heard a noise m the room above; it was as if a heavy
person were stamping about in clogs. A minute or so later the
footfalls sounded as if they had left the room and were travers-
ing die short gallery. Then they approached the head of die

*> The Ghost that Stumbled

ttun, yxostb at the dog-gate (which we had securely fastened
with string), and commenced descending the stairs. We dis-
tinctly counted the fifteen ‘thumps’ corresponding to the num-
ber of stairs— and I need hard Jy mention that our hearts were
‘thumping’ in unison. ‘It’ seemed to pause in the hall when die
bottom of the stain was reached, and we were wondering what
was going to happen next. The fact that only a door intervened
between us and the mysterious intruder made us take a lively in-
terest in what its next move would be. We were not kept long
in suspense. The entity, having paused in the hall for about
three minutes, turned tail and stumped up the stairs again,
every step being plainly heard. We again counted the number
of ‘thumps’, and were satisfied that ‘it’ was at the top of the
flight — where again a halt was made at the dog-gate. But no
further noise was heard when this gate bar! been reached. My
friend and I waited at the door for a few minutes more, and
then we decided to investigate the neighbourhood of the dog-
gate and Mary Hulse’s room. But we had barely formed this
resolution before we heard the ‘thumps’ descending the stairs
again. With quickened pulse I again counted the fifteen heavy
footsteps, which were getting nearer and nearer and louder and
louder. There was another pause in the hall, and again the foot-
falls commenced their upward journey. But by this time the
excitement of the adventure was making us bolder; we were
acquiring a little of that contempt which is bred by familiarity.
We decided to have a look at our quarry, if it were tangibly so
with my courage in one hand and the camera in the other, I
opened the door. My friend was close behind with the stable
lantern. By this time the ‘ghost’ was on about the fifth stair, but
with the opening of the door leading into the hall die noise of
its ascent stopped dead.

Realising that the ‘ghost’ was as frightened of meeting us as
we were of seeing it (although that is what we had come for),
we thought we would again examine die stairs and the upper

21

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

part of the house. This we did very thoroughly, but found
nothing disturbed. The dog-gate was still latched and tied with
string. To this day I am wondering whether ‘it’ climbed over
the gate (easily accomplished by a mortal), or whether it
slipped through the bars. I dunk we were disappointed at not
seeing anything we could photograph, so decided to make an
attempt at a flashlight picture if the Poltergeist would descend
the stairs again.

For my stand for the flash-powder I utilised some household
steps about six feet high which we found in the kitchen. I
opened out the steps and placed them about twelve feet from
the bottom of the stairs. On the top of the steps in an old
Waterbury watch-case I placed a heaped-up eggcupful of the
magnesium-cwm-gunpowder mixture — enough to photograph
every ghost in the county ! But in my simple enthusiasm I was
running no risks of under-exposure. I placed the Daniell’s bat-
teries in the morning-room, and connected them up with the
magnesium powder on the steps and the bell-push on the floor
of the room, the wire flex entering the room under the door.
In the heap of powder I had buried my platinum ‘rider’ which
was interposed in the electrical circuit.

The exact position as to where we should photograph the
entity presented some difficulty. We were not quite sure what
happened to it when it reached the hall, so we decided to make
an attempt at photographing it when it was ascending or de-
scending the stain. We decided on the former position, arguing
(which shows how simple we were!) that the ‘ghost’ would
have become less suspicious of us by the time it was on its
return journey! I stationed my friend on the seventh or eighth
stair (I forget which), and he held a lighted match which I
accurately focused on the ground-glass of my Lancaster Le
Mbitoire camera, which I placed on one of the treads of the
steps. I inserted die dark-slide, withdrew the flap, uncapped die
lens, and then all was ready. The whole thing was rather mad.

22 The Ghost that Stumbled

of course, but the reader must remember that we were very

young, with no experience of Poltergeist photography.

By the time we had fixed up the camera and examined the
connections it was about half-past one. During the time we
were moving about the hall not a sound was heard from above-
stairs. Having arranged everything to our satisfaction, we re-
turned to the morning-room, locked the door again and ex-
tinguished the lantern. Then we lay upon the carpet near the
door, with the pear-push in my hand, and commenced our
vigil.

It must have been nearly an hour before we heard anything,
and again it was from the Mary Hulse room that the noises
emanated. The sounds were identical to those we had previ-
ously heard: as if someone in clogs were treading heavily.
Shortly after, the ‘thumps’ could be heard approaching the dog-
gate and again ‘it’ paused at the top of the stairs. The pause was
greater than the previous one, and for a minute or so we thought
the Poltergeist had come to the end of its journey; but no, it
passed over — or through — the dog-gate and commenced
stumping down the stairs again. Having reached the hall the
visitant stopped, and in my mind’s eye I could picture it exam-
ining the arrangements we had made for securing its photo-
graph. Then we thought we heard the steps moved. In order to
get the camera square with the stairs I had taken a large book
— using it as a set-square — and drawn on the tiled floor a chalk
line parallel with the stairs. Exactly against this line I had placed
the two front feet of the steps.

During the next five or six minutes we heard no movement
in the halL Then suddenly ‘it’ started its return journey. With
our hearts beating wildly and with suppressed excitement we
lay on the floor counting the slow, measured ‘thumps' as they
ascended the stairs. At the seventh ‘thump’ I pressed the button
of my pear-push and — a most extraordinary thing happened,
which is rather difficult to describe on paper. At the moment of

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 23

the explosion the ‘ghost’ was so startled that it involuntarily
stumbled on the stairs, as we could plainly hear, and then there
was silence. At the same moment there was a clattering down
the stairs as if the spontaneous disintegration of the disturbing
entity had taken place. The flash from the ignition of the pow-
der was so vivid that even the morning-room from which we
were directing operations was lit up by the rays coming from
under the door, which was rather lll-fkting.

It would be difficult to say who was the more startled — the
Poltergeist or myself, and for some moments we did nothing.
After our astonishment had subsided somewhat, we opened the
door and found the hall filled with a dense white smoke in
which we could hardly breathe. We re-capped the camera, re-
lit our lantern, and made a tour of inspection. The first thing
we noticed was that the steps were shifted slightly out of the
square. Whether ‘it’ moved the steps (as we thought at the
time), or whether the shock of the explosion was responsible
(which is doubtful), we could not determine. The Waterbury
watch-case had disappeared with my platinum ‘rider’, and I
have never seen the latter from that day to this. The watch-case
we found eventually on the second stair from the bottom.
What happened to it was apparently this: through die ex-
tremely rapid conversion of the gunpowder and magnesium
mto gases, and the concavity of the interior periphery of the
case tending to retain the gases, the case was converted mto a
projectile, the very active propellant shooting it towards the
stairs (the force of the explosion happening to send it in that
direction), which it must have hit at about the spot where the
entity was ascending — surely the only recorded instance of a
‘ghost’ having a watch-case fired at it, and it has been suggested
that I call this narrative ‘How I “shot” my first Poltergeist’ l The
sound of the watch-case filling was the rattling noise we heard
when we thought we should find our quarry lying in pieces at
the foot of the staircase. We immediately developed the plate.

a* The Ghost that Stumbled

bat nothing bat an over-exposed picture of the staircase was on

the negative.

The Manor House continued to be the centre of psychic
activity for some months after our curious adventure, but the
disturbances became gradually less frequent, and eventually
ceased. Fate decreed that some years later I should spend very
many happy weeks in the house. If sometimes during that per-
iod my heart beat fester than its accustomed rate, the tany was
not a supernatural one! Suffice it to say that I did not see or hear
anything of the alleged spirit of Mary Hulse, though I will can-
didly admit that I was not looking for her— my interest in the
diaphanous maiden having been transferred by that time to one
of a much more objective nature !

II. The Most Haunted House in England

On Tuesday, June n, 1929, 1 was lunching with a friend,
when his telephone bell rang. The call was for me, from
die editor of a great London daily. He had been trying to find
me all the morning. He told me an extraordinary story. It ap-
peared that one of his representatives had sent in a report of a
most unusual Poltergeist case that was disturbing the inmates of
a country house somewhere in the Home Counties. He sought
my co-operation in unravelling the mystery. His man had been
at the house for two days and was impressed by what he had
seen and heard. Would I take up the case? I eagerly accepted his
invitation.

That same afternoon I telegraphed to the tenant saying I
would be with him the next day. His reply was: ‘Thank God —
come quickly. Will expect you to lunch.’ The next morning
found my secretary and me speeding through the countryside
full of hope as to what we were going to see. As we took turns
at the wheel, we discussed what the trouble might be. My ex-
perience told me to look for a mischievous adolescent, rats,
practical jokers — or the village idiot. I have wasted very many
weeks in acquiring this knowledge. But, I argued, a London
reporter is not easily impressed; usually he is hard-headed,
sceptical, and prone to scoff at such things as ‘ghosts’. If the re-
presentative of the Daily was convinced of something

abnormal, obviously the affair was worth inquiring into. We
had been so busily discussing the case that, before we realised it,

we discovered we were on the outskirts of W , a market

town. With considerable difficulty, we found our way to
K Manor, which is situated in a tiny hamlet, seven miles off

26

The Most Haunted House in England
the main road, and near nowhere in particular. We found that
the laige entrance gates had been opened for us and, as I swung
my car up the drive, we could see our host, Mr. H. Robinson,1
and his wife waiting to welcome us. We jumped out and
crossed the threshold of what I am certain is the most haunted
house in England; a house in which I have seen and heard the
most convincing Poltergeist phenomena; and a house which, if
it were in the market, I would purchase in order to study in situ
manifestations of an absolutely abnormal nature. Not only is

K Manor the perfect conception of a haunted house (as

regards both situation and variety of phenomena), but its
psychic history goes back many years and is fully documented.

At lunch we heard the complete history of the house and its
traditions, together with a detailed account of those mamfesta-
ftons which had brought us to such an out-of-the-way spot.
The account which follows is from the verbatim notes which
my secretary made during luncL

K Manor is a large house with nine acres of ground,

through which runs a little stream that empties itself m a pond.
The grounds are well wooded, and one path, known as the
‘Nun’s Walk’, leads to the little church and churchyard. Con-
tiguous to the walk on one side is a lawn. The house is not an
old one, having been built about 1863. It was erected on the
site of a twelfth-century monastery, the crypt of which is still
preserved. For many years the property has belonged to the
Perdval family. The mansion was built by Mr. Thomas
Percival, who resided there. He died there m 1897. His son, Mr.
Walter Percival, then became the occupier. He succumbed to a
painful and lingering illness in 1927. He died m the ‘Blue
Room’. A succession of owners occupied the mansion, but it
was alleged that none would stop more than a few months,
owing to the disturbances. In the spring of 1929 Mr. H. Robin-
son rented the house, and spent ^200 on doing the place up;

1For obvious reasons, some of the names in this report are fictitious.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 27

his occupation was the signal for a display of supernormal hap-
penings which, eventually, drove him out. But I am antici-
pating.

Now for the traditions, because K Manor has several. At

the period when the monastery was in its heyday, a coachman
belonging to the establishment fell in love with a nun attached
to a convent nearby. Their clandestine meetings culminated in
an attempted elopement in a black coach drawn by two bay
horses, driven by a lay brother. The tno were missed, over-
taken, and brought back. The three were tried by their respec-
tive superiors. The maiden was walled up alive and the coach-
men beheaded. So much for the principal legend — which has
several variants. A more modem story tells how the apparition
of Mr. Walter Percival is frequently seen, dressed in the old
grey bed-jacket in which he died.

It is not clear whether the traditions have been built up on
what a number of people undoubtedly think they have seen, or
whether the ‘appearances’ are really the apparitions of the un-
fortunate mediaeval lovers and the late owner. But there is no
doubt whatever that many people claim to have seen a coach

and pair careering through the grounds of K Manor, and,

much more frequently, the figure of a nun slowly walking past
the lawn towards the churchyard; that is how the ‘Nun’s Walk’
got its name. But the nun and her male friends play only a very
small part in the amazing story of K .

By the time we had finished our coffee, I had heard the his-
tory of K and its ghostly inhabitants. But what interested

me most was Mr. Robinson’s story of his own experiences. Of

course he heard all about the K legend before he took the

place, but did not believe a word of it; he regarded as fantastic
the stories that previous owners had departed on account of a
‘ghost’. His incredulity rapidly gave place to something akin to
fear.

The first ‘incident’ was the ringing of the front-door bell— a

28 The Most Haunted House in England

big, sonorous, clanging bell that reverberated all over die house.
It was soon after the Robinsons moved in and they were just re-
tiring to rest. It was a terrible night. There was a storm raging
and it would be difficult to imagine a worse evening for anyone
to be abroad. Mr. Robinson looked at his wife in wonderment.
Thinking it was a neighbour in dire trouble, he hurried to the
door and withdrew the bolts. The bell stopped ringing. With
the lamp in one hand, he peered into the darkness: there was no
one there. Sheltering the lamp from the gusts of wind and rain
that threatened to extinguish it, he walked a few paces down
the drive m search of his visitor. Nothing was to be seen. He
went into the roadway, but not a soul was visible. He re-
turned to the house and went to bed. Twenty-five minutes
later (at about 114s) die bell rang out again: not an ordinary
ring, but a clangorous solo which lasted until he could get a
dressing-gown on and reach the door. No one was there. The
rain had then ceased, and thinking the intruder was a small boy
playing a joke, he explored a considerable part of the garden
and roadway: he found no one. There was no further disturb-
ance that night, but the nocturnal clangour of the door bell rang
in an orgy of ringing1 which persists to this day.

The bells were the start of the trouble. Only a part of the
house was furnished, but bell-ropes in empty rooms were
pulled as frequently as those in the apartments in use. And then
the door-keys commenced to fall out of the locks. Every key
would be in its place overnight; in the morning, many of them
would be found on the floor. Eventually, every one disappeared.

With die key phenomena came die sounds of slippered foot-
falls, in all parts of the house, by day and by night. Especially
when they were undressing for bed, the Robinsons would hear
soft steps in the passage outside their room. More than once Mr.

1For the classic case of supernormal bell-ringing, see Beatings Bells: an
Account of the Mysterious Ringing of Bells at Great Beatings, Sujfolk, in 1834,
by Edward Moor, Woodbndge, 1841.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 29

Robinson waited in the dark with a hockey stick and made
lunges at ‘something’ that passed him. He never struck anything.
Then stones were thrown: small round pebbles (origin un-
known) were hurtled through the air, or came rolling down the
stairs. Things became so bad that the villagers were frightened.
A reporter arrived on the scene — and that is how I came to be
connected with the case.

The night previous to my arrival, a new phenomenon was
witnessed. It was reported by several people that a light had
been seen at the window of one of the empty and disused
rooms. It did not remain stationary, but appeared to travel in an
elliptical path which was always visible from the garden. The
reporter, who had by then established himself in the village,
saw the light plainly and suggested to Mr. Robinson that the
latter should go to the room with another light and explore.
This was done and, for the space of about a minute, the watchers
from the garden saw two lights side by side, one (our host’s)
being waved about, the other quite stationary. But Mr.
Robinson neither saw nor heard anything m the room.

That was the latest story that was current when I arrived at
the Manor on June 12. Having finished lunch, I asked to see the
staff of the house. It consisted of a young village girl (who slept
at home) and a daily gardener. Of course the girl knew all about
the traditions of the place and solemnly assured me that she had
seen ‘an old-fashioned coach’ on the lawn, ‘drawn by two
horses’. She said she had also seen the ‘nun’ leaning over a gate
near the house. I then learnt that when the Robinsons moved in
they brought with them from London a young maid who
stayed for exactly forty-eight hours. Questioned about her sad-
den departure, she declared that near some trees in the garden
she had seen a ‘nun who had frightened her’. She had not been
told about the tradition, but nothing would induce her to stop.
I interviewed the old gardener, who informed me he had never
seen the apparitions but had that very week dug up a skull

30 The Most Haunted House in England

(supposed to be a relic of the Great Plague) when removing
some turf, and re-buried it in the churchyard.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon and early evening ex-
ploring every inch of the house, gardens, cellar, crypt, out-
houses and stables (over which were some disused rooms). My
secretary and I, in our minute examination of every bell wire,
which we traced from the pull to the bell itself (they were the
old-fashioned variety, on springs), climbed under the eaves and
wormed our way between the top rafters and the tiles. Wc
found a plaque on which the original bell-hangers had written
their names, ages, and date, but discovered nothing else. Every
wire seemed quite ordinary. We could find nothing suspicious
in the house or grounds, so, after a meal, we settled down to
wait for dusk.

It is at dusk that the ‘nun’ is supposed to be most active, so
the Pressman and I decided to spend the evenmg in the garden.
My secretary was to report what took place m the house, where
she was on guard. We arranged that I should keep my eyes
glued on the back windows of the building in wait for the
‘light’, while the reporter watched the ‘Nun’s Walk’. As it was
getting chilly, we stood in the doorway of a large summer-
house. We had been there nearly an hour when the reporter
suddenly gripped my arm and whispered: ‘There she is!’ I
looked towards the ‘Nun’s Walk’ and sure enough there ap-
peared to be a shadowy figure gliding down the path under the
trees. As he spoke, the newspaper man dashed across the lawn.
When he returned, he informed me that the figure became
more distinct as he approached it, but vanished as he reached
the spot. He told me that it just ‘melted away’. I did not see this
disappearance, as the reporter was between the figure and me.
Concluding that the ‘nun’ would not be seen again that night,
we decided to enter die house. As we passed under the porch,
there was a terrific crash and a pane of glass from the roof
hurtled to the ground.

Confessions oj a Ghost-Hunter 31

The glass missed as by 2 few feet. It may have been coinci-
dence that a pane of glass fell (for no ascertainable reason) just
as we entered the porch, but it was very disconcerting. But that
was not the worst. We entered the house and searched the
place from roof to cellar. Just as we were coming downstairs
after the investigation, a red glass candlestick, from the ‘Blue
Room’, was flung down the staircase well and struck an iron
stove in the hall. I was splashed with splinters. Immediately
after, a mothball came tumbling down the well. The only per-
sons in the house were downstairs. (The maid had gone home.)

I then decided to seal every door and window in the house. I
fetched from my car the fitted case1 which I carry on these
occasions, and inserted screw-eyes in doors, posts, and window
frames. Tapes were threaded through the eyes, knotted, and the
knots sealed with post-office leaden seals. Then we adjourned to
the ‘Blue Room’ to see what would happen. It was suggested
by Mr. Robinson that we should hold a stance in this room,
where Mr. Walter Percival had died. I was rather averse to the
proposal, as we were not there to encourage the alleged ‘spirits’,
but rather to disperse them. However, I gave way, but insisted
upon the stance being held by the light of the powerful duplex
paraffin lamp which we had earned upstairs. We seated our-
selves on the bed and on the two chairs which the room con-
tamed, and I made a short speech, addressing my remarks to the
four walls of the room. I protested that the manifestations were

1The reader may be interested to know what a ghost-hunter’s kit consists
of. My bag contained: pair of soft felt overshoes, steel measuring tape;
screw-eyes, lead seals and sealing tool; white rape; tool-pad and nails; bank
of flex, small electric bells, dry batteries and switches (for secret electrical
contacts); camera, films and flash-bulbs; note-book, red, blue and black
pencils; sketching block and case of drawing instruments; bandages, iodine
and surgical adhesive tape; ball of string, sock of chalk, matches, electric
torch and candle; flask of brandy; bowl of mercury to detect tremors in
room or passage; cinematograph camera with electrical release. For a long
stay in house with supply of electricity, I would take with me infra-red
filters, lamps, and ani films sensitive to infra-red cays, so that I could photo-
graph objects in almost complete darkness.

3* The Most Haunted House in England

undermining the health of our host and his wife, and implored
the disturbing entities, whether evil or benevolent, to depart. I
then asked: ‘Is Mr. Walter Percival present?’ To our amaze-
ment, we were answered by a decided rap which appeared to
come from the back of a large mirror which stood on the dress-
ing table. It was then about one o’clock in the morning.

For three hours we questioned whatever it was that was rap-
ping out answers. Once for ‘yes’, twice for ‘no* and three times
for ‘doubtful’ was the code which we suggested and which,
apparently, the entity understood perfectly. We asked innum-
erable questions, which were prompted by a member of the
Percival family, who was present. ‘Walter Perdval’ discussed
his will, his marriage and his relatives; and the answers we re-
ceived— via the mirror — were always intelligent and relevant.
We were informed that quite a number of ‘family secrets’ had
been revealed.

Just before we closed this novel and extraordinary stance, a
cake of soap on the washstand was lifted and thrown heavily
on to a china jug which was standing on the floor with such
force that the soap was deeply marked. All of us were on the
other side of the room when this happened. We dispersed soon
after, and I snatched a few hours’ sleep on the bed m the ‘Blue
Room’. I was not disturbed: haunted and haunters were at
peace.

Next morning I went into the town of W and inter-
viewed the owners of K Manor. They were three sis ten,

two of whom I saw. They assured me that in 1900, during a
garden party, on a sunny afternoon, the three sisters and a maid
saw a nun, dressed completely in black, and with bowed head,
slowly walking down the path. One of them said, ‘I’ll speak to
her!’ and ran across the lawn. As she approached, the figure
turned its head and vanished. This story was confirmed by the
other sister. The Misses Percival also informed me that their
brother, Mr. Walter Perdval, frequently saw the coach and

The author’s ‘ghost-hunting’ kit, consisting of reflex and cinematograph cameras, tot
for sealing doors and windows, apparatus for secret electrical controls, steel tape, drawn
instruments, torch, bottle of mercurv, powdered graphite for developing finger-prints, cl

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 33

nun. This was confirmed by a friend of the late owner who

wrote to the Daily and stated that on several occasions Mr.

Percival had admitted to him that he had seen both nun and
coach; and that, when dead, he would, if possible, manifest in
the same way. Did he partly fulfil this promise early that same
morning when we were assembled in the ‘Blue Room’?

I received other evidence as to the haunting of K Manor.

While I was in W 1 called on a man who was once groom-

gardener at the house and who had lived in the rooms over the
stables. Every night for eight months he and his wife, when in
bed, heard steps in the living-room adjoining. The noises were
as if a huge dog had jumped from some considerable height and
had then started running round the room. One night there was
heard a temffic crash as if the sideboard had toppled over,
smashing the ornaments m its fall. The groom jumped out of
bed, ht a candle, and went to explore. Not a thing was dis-
placed— and the ‘dog’ was heard no more. During my investi-
gation I received a letter from another old servant who, forty-
three years previously, was an under-nursemaid at the Manor.
She told me that it was common talk that the place was
haunted. When she had been there a fortnight, she was awak-
ened in the dead of night by someone moving outside her bed-
room door. It sounded as if a person were shuffling about in
slippers. The experience so unnerved her that her father re-
moved her from the place. There is much good evidence for the
haunting of K Manor.

During my first visit to K 1 stopped three nights, and dis-
turbances were witnessed each evening. My secretary stayed
over the week-end and the phenomena continued. A week or so
later, Mr. Robinson and his wife moved to an adjoining village:
they simply could not stand the strain any longer. They re-
moved their furniture and locked the place up. On July 22,
1929, Mr. Robinson wrote me: ‘Visiting the house last Sunday
we discovered that the windows had been unlocked from

34 The Most Haunted House in England

within, and one thrown up!’ I visited the place several times
when it was empty and though the manifestations were not
nearly so violent, we still witnessed phenomena. I could fill

many pages with what I have seen and heard at K . But,

short of living in the house, I found I could do little more there.
Mr. Robinson took another abode and, despairing of finding a
new tenant, the owners shut the place up.

* * ★ * *

Two years elapsed before I heard any more of K . One

day the Misses Perdval called upon me and said that the Manor
was again occupied. The new tenant’s name was Mr. B. Morri-
son. The disturbances, in a much more violent form, had broken
out again within a week of his moving in. Mr. Morrison had
kept a diary of the phenomena. Would I like to investigate
again? I said I would and immediately got m touch with the
new tenant, who kindly sent me his diary for perusal. It was an
amazing document.

Between February and July 193 1 literally hundreds of pheno-
mena were witnessed — thirty-one typescript pages of them!
Stones, books and bricks were thrown; bells were rung night
and day; ‘Walter Percival’ was seen many times; perfumes
scented the rooms; things (including a gold bracelet) disap-
peared, but many objects (including a wedding ring), never
seen before, put m an appearance; sounds of footsteps were
heard; both husband and wife were injured — the latter seri-
ously, four tunes; once, Mr. Morrison was just enjoying his
first sleep when he was awakened by a hard crack on the head
with his own hair brush; water from the ewer was slowly
poured over the sleeping tenant and his wife, and bedroom
utensils marched round the room; bits of paper and the walls
were scribbled on; pepper was thrown in their eyes; the wife
was half smothered by a mattress, etc. All these incidents are
detailed in Mr. Morrison’s diary. I decided to visit the place

35

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
It was early in October 193 1 that I paid my last visit to K-
I was accompanied by Mrs. Henry Richards and Mrs. A. Peel
Goldney (two members of the council of the National Labora-
tory of Psychical Research). We spent two nights investigating,
and had an amazing story to tell when we returned. We saw
red wine turn mto ink, and white wine take on the flavour of
eau de Cologne ; an empty wine bottle was hurled at me from
above-stairs, missing me by a few inches; bells rang for no
apparent reason; Mrs. Richards’ chauffeur saw a black hand
creep over the door of the kitchen, where he was smoking his
pipe; we witnessed a locked door ‘miraculously’ unlocked by
means of a holy relic; we took part in a service of exorcism; we
chanted a reliquary prayer; we helped to carry a lady up to

bed We saw even stranger things; so strange, in fact, that —

for the moment — my lips are scaled concerning them. But we
came to the conclusion that the supernormal played no part
in the ‘wonders’ we had witnessed.

III. Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

It is not generally realised that one can libel a house as surely
as one can libel a person. If I were to assert in these Confessions
that a certain house was haunted, damages could be claimed.
But only if I originated the libel. A few years ago I was con-
sulted by a daily newspaper which had published a paragraph
that a certain country house was the centre of Poltergeist disturb-
ances. The owner (not the tenant, who rather enjoyed a bit of
ghost-hunting) happened to see the notice and prompdy issued
a writ for alleged libel. The editor appealed to me to help him.
Had I any record that the house was supposed to be haunted? I
searched our files and archives, but could find no trace of the
place, of which I had never heard. If I could have produced two
lines of printed matter referring to the house as being ‘haunted’,
or a person who could have proved that it was ‘common know-
ledge’ the place was possessed by spirits, I could have saved the
Daily — , But the newspaper had originated the story, and the pro-
prietors had to pay. The case was settled out of court for £800.

I have made this rather interesting digression in order to em-
phasise how difficult it is for a ‘ghost-hunter’ fully to report and
publish all the facts about the houses he investigates. He has to
be careful with his names of persons and places. This is a pity,
as I believe in publishing the fullest details of a case in which I
have been concerned, in order to authenticate it. I have acted on
this principle throughout these Confessions, with one or two
exceptions. But in the account of my adventures which form
die subject of this chapter, I have been compelled to withhold
certain information by means of which some of the places
could be identified.

36

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 37

Ghost-hunting (even professional ghost-hunting) is of an-
cient origin and was fully discussed as long ago as 1572 when
Lavater’s famous book, Of Ghostes and Spirites Walking by
Nyght,1 was published. In many respects, the book might have
been written yesterday, instead of in the sixteenth century, and
it is a fart that Shakespeare drew largely from the work when
he wrote Hamlet. The first chapter ‘Concerning certaine
wordes which are often used in this Treatise of Spirits’ deals
with the terms spectrum, defined as ‘a substance without a body,
which beeing hcarde or scene, maketh men afrayde’, visions,
and apparitions. The author then warns his readers to be
critical of the evidence for spirits: ‘ Melancholike persons, and
madde men, imagin many things which in verie deede are not.
Men which are dull of semg and hearing imagine many things
which in very deed are not so.’ Lavater’s words should be
emblazoned m neon lights over the portals of every stance-
zoom. Lavater then proceeds to describe various fraudulent
phenomena and again warns us ‘That many naturall things are
taken to be ghosts, as for example, when they heare the crying
of rats, cats, weasles, martins, or any other beast, or when they
heare a horse beate his feete on the plankes in the stable at mid-
night, by and by they sweate for feare, supposing some buggs
to walke in the dead of the mght. ... If a worme whiche fret-
teth wood, or that breadeth in trees chaunce to gnawe a wall or
waynescot, or other tymber, many will judge they heare one
softly knocking uppon an andvill with a sledge.’ Lavater knew
his ‘sitters’, who were much the same three hundred and sixty
years ago as they are to-day. The remainder of the work deals
with apparently genuine phenomena, and die author discusses

*Of ghostes and spirites walking by nyght, and of strange noyses, cracker, and
sundry forewamynges, which commonly happen before the death of memte, great
slaughters, & alterations of Kyngdomes. One Booke, Written by Lewes Lavaterus
of Tigurine [Zurich], London, 1572. This is a translation of De Spectris, by
Ludwig Lavater, Geneva, 1570. The English edition is excessively rare; the
original edition less so.

38 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

survival from every angle. Considering its antiquity, Lavater’s
IS an amazing work.

Lavater was wise in warning his readers against mistaking
normal noises for supernormal ones, and two incidents which
came within my own experience are worth recording. The
first happened on New Year’s Eve, when I was staying at a
house in a Shropshire village. I had retired to rest soon after ten
o’clock, leaving my bedroom window open according to my
usual custom. At about 1145 I was awakened by the church
bells ringing in the New Year. The little church was only about
two hundred yards from the house m which I was staying. As I
lay awake listening to them, I fancied that with their clangour
I could hear sweet music coming from the dining-room, which
was immediately below my bedchamber. As I listened, I could
distinctly hear faint chords as from a harp or zither. Then I re-
membered that in the apartment below me was a piano, and it
occurred to me that someone might be twanging the strings,
producing a sort of pizzicato effect. It sounded most weird, and
one could easily have imagined a ghostly harpist in the room
below. I decided to investigate and made my way to the lower
storey. I quickly solved the mystery. Actually, the explanation
was quite simple. I discovered that certain notes from the piano
recurred always during a particular peal from the bells, and this
gave me the clue to the ‘ghostly music’. The wires of the piano
were vibrating in sympathy with the noisy bells. This ‘sym-
pathetic vibration’ is well known to physicists. In the same way
Caruso, the famous tenor, could emit a note that would crack
a wine glass m the immediate vicinity.

The second incident I referred to occurred on January 21,
1926, when the rooms of the National Laboratory of Psychical
Research were thrown open for public inspection. The building
had been newly furnished and certain alterations had been car-
ried out. After the crowds had departed, I decided to stay and
work all night at some particular experiment on which I was

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 39

engaged. The laboratory suite was on the top floor of the
building and no one but the caretakers, who occupied the base-
ment flat, five floors below, were in the house. Yet throughout
the night I could hear noises such as raps and footsteps coming
from the rooms below ours. At first I thought they were caused
by one of the caretakers, but then I argued that these people
would not be moving about so late at night. I decided to in-
vestigate.

I did so, and traced one noise to its source. In the lecture hall,
three floors below the laboratory, there had been installed
during the day a low stage or platform made of new wood.
The rooms had been very much heated in the evening, and in
the early hours of the morning were rapidly becoming cooler.
As the room cooled, the woodwork contracted, and the strain^
ing of the joints emitted noises which were magnified mto what
sounded like hammer blows. I transferred a transmitting ther-
mograph from the laboratory to the lecture hall, and noticed
that as the temperature of the apartment fell, so the sounds in-
creased. The maximum drop m the thermograph coincided
with the cessation of the noises, the new wood being no longer
affected by the fall m the temperature.

Having now recorded how I ran to earth certain ‘ghostly’
noises, I will relate some adventures m haunted houses in
which, I am convinced, genuine phenomena occurred. In parti-
cular, the derelict mansion in Somersetshire much impressed
me. This house had stood empty, on and off, for over thirty
years. No agent could let it and even caretakers were afraid of
remaining in the place. The villagers declared that ‘fiendish
faces’, apparently suspended in the air, peered through the win-
dows of the top floor. Footsteps were heard in locked rooms
which had not been opened for twenty years, and the noise of
boxes being dragged about the room scared every caretaker
who attempted to live in the place. This latter noise was a very
curious one. People who declared they had heard the manifesta-

40 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

dons said it was as if a heavy box or chest had been dropped

from a height, and then slowly dragged across the room.

Other manifestations included an epidemic of broken win-
dows (caused probably by small boys); and a curious sound re-
sembling the ‘whirr* of the wings of a giant bird of prey which
was heard in various parts of the building. I ascribed most of
these alleged phenomena to fear on the part of the few care-
takers who had resided m the place, or to local gossip in the
village. But the ‘whirring wings’ phenomenon was real
enough, as I discovered when I investigated the case.

I spent two whole days, and one night, in the Somersetshire
mansion. Previous to my visit, I interviewed several people m
the village (including two persons who had acted as caretakers
at different times) and received first-hand accounts of the
haunting. The stones more or less tallied and were similar to
those contained m the report of the place which I had received
in London. I took with me to the house one of the men who had
acted as custodian there about ten years previously, and who
knew every nook and comer of the place.

With my guide, I explored the house from top to bottom.
Everything seemed normal, except that the place was in a
shocking state of disrepair. What were once fine Italian moulded
ceilings littered the floor, and m many of the rooms the wall-
papers were in nbbons. Damp was slowly consuming the place.

It was in February when I visited the mansion, and by six
o’clock it was quite dark. We had had some provisions sent in
from the village urn, and after a sort of high tea we decided to
explore the place again. This time I was rewarded for the
trouble and expense I had been put to in investigating the
affair, and I added to my case-book the details of one of the
strangest phenomena I have ever experienced.

It was on the fourth (top) floor where we heard the curious
noise which had been likened to that of a flying bird. But to me
it sounded like something between the humming whirr a

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 41

circular saw makes when in motion and a strong wind rushing
through a gully or narrow passage. The place had been used as
a box room and there was neither chimney nor ventilator in the
room. There was a fairly large window which, after some
trouble, my companion succeeded in opening. The ‘whirring*
stopped instantly. We closed the window and again die pheno-
menon was heard. Then we closed both door and window, but
the ‘whirring* sound persisted. Whether the door was open or
closed made no difference to the phenomenon. But imme-
diately we opened the window, the ‘rushing wind’ effect was
not apparent.

The sceptic will naturally conclude that the noise we heard
was caused by the wind outside forcing its way through cracks
and crevices into the box room, thus deceiving us mto believing
that we were witnessing something abnormal. Well, the scep-
tic will be wrong, because it happened to be a cold, frosty
night with not even a slight breeze. It was also very clear and
starry, and from the open window of the box room we could
see the lights of Minchead many miles away.

We made ourselves comfortable on some old rugs we had
brought with us, and spent the night on the floor, trying to
keep warm and hoping that something would happen. Actu-
ally, nothing further did happen. Twice during the night I
went to the box room, and the whirring could be heard on
each occasion. I spent the whole of the next day — which was
wet — in the house, and heard nothing until it was nearly dark,
when the wind phenomenon recommenced. I returned to
London. I think it was this particular manifestation which gave
the house its sinister reputation.

A year or so after my visit I was motoring in Somerset and
made a detour in order to have another look at the mansion.
To my surprise, the builders were hard at work reconstructing
the premises. It is now a ‘boarding establishment for young
ladies* and is occasionally advertised in the scholastic press. I

42 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

smile when I read the advertisements, and wonder if the ‘bird’
still holds its own against seventy healthy schoolgirls. I am
afraid not.

Whether the rebuilding of a ‘haunted’ house is an infallible
method of dislodging a disturbing entity is open to doubt, as I
have records of sites upon which have been erected a succession
of buildings, all of which have acquired the same reputation of
possessing Poltergeists. But it is probable that the traditions were
merely handed down from generation to generation. For
example, I once spent a night in a house near Hayward’s Heath
concerning which a story was current that Cromwell’s soldiers
had once been quartered in a previous building on the same
site, and that, night after night, the sounds of revelry and
strange oaths were still to be heard. I visited the house on two
occasions, but could not make sure that I heard anything abnor-
mal. It is curious that the great majority of alleged haunted
houses owe their reputations to the fra that the manifestations
are aural and not visual. At this same Sussex ‘haunt’ it was
alleged that the tramp of soldiers could be heard at certain times
of the year. The villagers are convinced that the dead Crom-
wellian soldiers have stamped their personality upon the place.

I know of another cottage built on a part of the site of the
ancient Roman city of Uriconium, or Viroconium, the capital
of Britannia Secunda (near Wroxeter, Shropshire), which, in its
day, was one of the most important Roman settlements in
England.1 Pompeii, at the height of its power and prosperity,
was inferior in size and importance to Uriconium in its prime.
It was burned by die West Saxons in a.d. 584. Yet there is
little to be seen there to-day except the remains of the south
wall of die basilica, which refuses to disintegrate, and the ruins
of the public baths, which axe of purely archaeological interest.
Antiquarian subjects have always interested me, and, hearing

1See Uriconium: a Historical Account of die Ancient Roman City, by Thomas
Wright, London, 187a.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 43

that there was a haunted cottage on the old Roman site, I
visited the place and made some inquiries. I happened to be
spending a vacation in Shropshire, so it was convenient for me
to combine a little ghost-hunting with my holiday.

From the description of the place which I received, I had no
difficulty in finding the cottage, which was occupied by a young
cattle dealer, his wife and a little girl aged three years. They
did not know I was coming and I refrained from writing in case
the village turned out en masse to welcome me. I hve in a village
myself, and news travels quickly in such places.

The dealer was surprised to see me, and astonished when I
told him the reason for my visit at such a late hour. It was
nearly ten o’clock on a June evening. Fortunately, Summer
Time — that bane of ghost-hunters — had not been invented. I
was invited into the kitchen-parlour, and for more than an hour
I plied my host and his wife with questions concerning the
alleged disturbances. Yes, they had often seen a young girl, clad
m a Roman stola (this is not the word he used) of white linen,
slowly climbing the few stairs which led to the upper rooms of
the cottage. The apparition was never seen at any other spot
except on the stairs — always climbing and never descending.
She invariably vanished as she reached the small landing at the
head of the stairs. Both husband and wife had met ‘the girl’, but
the man had seen nothing else. But his wife — it was alleged —
had frequently encountered various figures m togas, crowding
outside the cottage door, and always when it was dusk or nearly
dusk. The woman declared that on many occasions, as she
opened the door, she had seen a number of men dressed as
Roman civilians (whom she described in detail) standing out-
side the door as if about to crowd into the cottage. But they
always vanished before the door could be fully opened. Her
husband declared that his wife (a Scotswoman) possessed
‘second sight’ — a faculty which was shared by other members
of her family.

44 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

Questioned as to whether they ever heard anything, both the
dealer and his wife said that raps, footsteps, and ‘a rumbling
sound as of heavy wheels rolling over cobbles’ had been heard
infrequently. I was about to take my departure when the dealer
asked me if I cared to spend the night in the house. Although I
had intended staying at the Heber Arms (I think that was the
name of the inn), at Wroxeter, I accepted my host’s invitation,
and the only spare bedroom was placed at my disposal. After a
substantial meal of fat pickled pork, red cabbage and home-
brewed beer, we drank the time-honoured toast to ‘all friends
round the Wrekin’ in some excellent sloe gin, and I retired to
my room. I did not undress, but sat reading by the light of two
candles and a stable lantern. The only disturbance that night
was caused by a bat which flew through my open window and
knocked a candle over. There were the usual sounds that one
hears at night: the call of birds, owls hooting, timbers creaking,
etc., but I could not persuade myself that the noises were
abnormal. Curiously enough, I did not feel sleepy, which was
very unusual. Soon after five o’clock I heard the dealer moving
about the house, so I had a wash and joined him. He was not
surprised that I had neither seen nor heard anything, and sug-
gested my spending another night in the cottage. ‘If you sleep
on the stairs’, he said, ‘you will be bound to see the girl sooner
or later.’ But I was due back in Shrewsbury and could spare no
more time on the Roman ghosts. After breakfast — which, like
the supper, consisted of bacon and beer— I took my departure.
My visit was not quite without result, as I was put m the way of
acquiring a Roman amphora, in perfect condition, which had
been found somewhere in the neighbourhood.

Speaking of cottages reminds me that in 1925 I investigated
one in Surrey, and in many ways the case is unique. The cottage
itself was not haunted, but the tenants continually heard foot-
steps on the gravel path which encircled the building. The
manifestations commenced as soon as the place was occupied.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 45

During the first week, the woman twice went to the door,
thinking it was the postman, but no one was there. The path
had been newly gravelled and the lightest step upon it could be
heard within the house, which was off the main road and quite
isolated. The only occupants of the cottage were the husband
and wife, the former being out all day.

A peculiarity of this particular ‘haunt’ was that the footsteps
were heard punctually at 8 .30 on most mornings, but especially
towards the end of the week, though never on a Sunday. A
watch was kept in the garden from certain sheds that com-
manded a view of the pathway, but the perambulating ghost
was never seen, and never heard except from within the cottage.

Unaware that the entity never ‘walked’ on a Sunday, I first
visited the cottage on a Saturday night, hoping to hear the
footsteps on the following morning. Learning that this was
highly improbable, on the Sunday I busied myself with making
four wide and shallow trenches across the path. I filled these
trenches with a mixture of flour and silver sand which I made
perfectly smooth with a newspaper in die hope that the ghost’s
footprints would be impressed upon it. Next morning I was up
early, had breakfast, and waited for the intangible visitor. On
the stroke of half-past eight, the steps could be heard approach^
ing. They appeared to come from the back of the cottage.
There was nothing peculiar about the steps — it was just as if a
man, with rather a firm tread, were approaching the house. I
ran into the small hall and peered through the letter-box. Noth-
ing was seen to pass, but I could hear the footsteps as they came
nearer and nearer, and gradually died away. I rushed out of the
cottage, but could find no one. I searched the buildings without
success. The man belonging to the house had left for work soon
after seven o’clock and no servant was employed. There were
no animals in the immediate neighbourhood. The nearest habi-
tation was nearly half a mile away. I was convinced that no
person was playing a trick on me. I examined my trenches, but

46 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

they were quite unmarked. I was disappointed that no impres-
sions of footprints were visible — even the mark of a cloven
hoof would have been acceptable! I visited the cottage three
times in all, but heard the footsteps on the first occasion only.
The cottage became vacant a few months after my last visit; the
place was taken by two maiden ladies who turned the house into
a tea garden. It did not pay, but whether the ‘footsteps' or the
lack of custom was responsible for their vacating the cottage, I
never ascertained. But the place is still empty.

One does not usually associate a London playhouse with the
occult; and the dressing-room of a popular musical comedy
actress is the last place one would expect to be haunted. But it
was to the Adelphi Theatre that I was called a few years ago in
order to investigate an alleged ‘ghost’.

It was at the stage door of the Adelphi Theatre in 1897 that
William Terriss was murdered, and it was into the dressing-
room afterwards occupied by the actress in question that his
body was carried. I interviewed a number of dressers, firemen
and stage-hands, and they all claimed to have heard the strange
noises. The actress informed me that time after time, when
resting on a certain couch, between the afternoon and evening
performances, she had been awakened by loud noises in her
room, and thumps coming from under the couch. Friends who
had been with her on these occasions verified her statements.
Once she awoke with a scream and afterwards said her arm felt
as if it had been gripped by a hand. Later — I was informed —
four weals appeared on her arm, exactly as if four fingers had
tightly gripped the flesh. This story was confirmed by a friend
of the actress. I was asked if I knew a medium who could get
into touch with whatever was causing the disturbance. I said I
did not, but I happened to have arranged for that evening a
sitting with Stella C.,1 the famous physical medium. I said I
would bring her to die theatre.

1See Stella C. ; an Account of Some Original Experiments in Psychical Re-
search, by Harry Pncc, London, 1925.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 47

I held a stance in the dressing-room with Stella which lasted
until 2.30 in the morning; but the conditions — an atmosphere
of Pressmen and tobacco smoke — were not very favourable for
die experiments. Nevertheless, we did get a few phenomena,
though these were undoubtedly due to Stella’s presence. I asked
the actress to sit on the couch, and later she declared that she
felt the familiar thumps beneath it. One really curious incident
happened: during the stance a sudden crash came from the
direction of the mirror over the mantelpiece. Everyone heard it,
and we speculated as to what it could be; it sounded as if some-
thing had fallen heavily, although the crash seemed to come
from behind the glass. The mirror itself was untouched. This
was certainly strange, but the late hour prevented my making
further experiments. I heard nothing more about the ‘haunted
dressing-room’, which, if it did nothing else, provided con-
siderable publicity for a number of people.

My adventures in haunted houses have not been confined to
British soil. In 1928 I heard from the late Albert Freiherr von
Schrenck-Notring that a most extraordinary Poltergeist case in a
house at Munich was occupying his attention. He invited me to
co-operate in its elucidation. The haunting was unique inas-
much that, in addition to the usual Poltergeist phenomena, there
were other strange occurrences outside the house, which ap-
peared to have a bearing on the case.

I decided to accept Baron von Schrenck’s invitation, but I
was delayed in various ways and, just as I was about to start for
Munich, I heard that the manifestations had suddenly ceased.
However, the case is so interesting that I make no apology for
including it in this chapter.

In Munich, as m most Continental cities, the majority of the
residents live in flats. It was in one of these, in an appartement of
four rooms on the second floor of a building in the Augusten-
strasse, that the curious happenings took place.

The flat had for many years been occupied by an elderly lady,

48 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

die widow of a doctor. She had let one room to a chemical
student and, eight days before die commencement of die extra-
ordinary events I am about to relate, she had dismissed her
servant on account of ‘malevolence’, and had engaged as a new
maid a girl of fourteen years.

The lady went out for a little while one afternoon and only
die maid and the lodger were left at home. Suddenly the front-
door bell rang. The girl opened the door and saw a tall man
with a dark cloak and blue hat standing before her. For some
reason that she could never explain, she no sooner set eyes on
him than she felt afraid. The girl answered the door perhaps
twenty times a day, but this man was ‘different’ from all other
visitors. It seemed to her there was something uncanny about
him. She was a little frightened by his dark and old-world
clothes and his staring eyes, though he merely asked politely for
die servant who had just been dismissed. At this the girl began to
tremble, and when she informed the stranger that the person he
wanted was no longer in the house, he became abusive. The
maid plucked up sufficient courage to close and lock the door m
his free, and then reported the incident to the lodger, who at once
went to look for the mysterious intruder. He could not be found.

Two hours later, after the widow had returned, strange
things began to happen m the flat. At first, the door bell rang
violently. The ringing lasted an hour, yet no one was to be seen
at the door. There followed a violent ‘drumming’ on the door,
though the drummer remained invisible. This continued for
some time, and then the family were thrown into a state of
panic, for it seemed as if the disturbing entity had entered the
flat. Glasses, plates, vases, tumblers, spoons and various other
articles were flung in all directions by an unseen hand. Doors
and windows opened by themselves, and the wardrobe mirror
was smashed to pieces by some invisible object. A reel of thread
was thrown through the letter-box of the door and as suddenly
disappeared.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 49

Furniture moved of its own volition. Nothing would stay in
its place for five consecutive minutes. Overcoats hanging in the
hall were mysteriously transported to other rooms. The maid
would dose a drawer one moment, and it would be opened and
die contents turned out by unseen hands the next The manifes-
tations became so alarming that finally the police were sum-
moned.

During the examination of the rooms and their contents, the
manifestations went on without interruption. In the widow’s
bedroom a tumbler of water filled itself, flew across die room,
and the contents splashed on her bed. When she picked up the
tumbler and placed it on a table, it flew off and smashed itself
against the wall. In the student’s bed were found a bowl filled
with water, shoes and plates; on the maidservant’s bed were
found a bottle of water and a sprig of a fir-tree which be-
longed to a bunch in the hall. In her trunk was discovered the
missing reel of thread which had so mysteriously found its way
through the letter-box. Behind a curtain were found several
valuable vases which in some inexplicable manner had been
removed from their usual positions. Whilst these discoveries
were being made the strange displacement of objects con-
tinued.

On another occasion, when the police were actually in the
flat, a fire broke out in one of the rooms without any apparent
cause. A knife was thrown at, and struck one of the policemen,
and a glass fell on his head. It is said that the mysterious stranger
was again seen at the flat early in the morning on the day after
his first visit, but quickly disappeared on being detected. No
explanation of the extraordinary occurrences was forthcoming.
The spiritualists claimed that the stranger was a ghost who was
seeking some object. Whether there was any truth in this, I
cannot say. A more likely explanation is that the manifestations
were caused by the maidservant. Even the police had to confess
themselves baffled, which, to say the least of it, is very unusual

50 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

in such affairs. Eventually, as in most Poltergeist cases, die mani-
festations completely subsided.

I remember yet another peculiar ‘haunting’ I investigated on
die Continent. This was in a house at Hall, near Innsbruck,
which was alleged to be occupied by a particularly vindictive
‘spirit’. Several observers stated that if any person attempted to
enter the place after nightfall, a very powerful ‘something’
flung him out with great force. It appeared that the ‘thing’ had
a particular antipathy even to inanimate objects, for if a hat
were thrown into die open doorway, it would return like a
boomerang.

Personally, I saw nothing of these wonders, for I managed to
enter the house without hindrance, though appearances indi-
cated there was something wrong. Not only did the atmos-
phere appear especially oppressive, but also, on several occa-
sions, objects moved without apparent physical contact. Once
or twice when I was there, rooms were scaled up, yet when
they were opened, chairs, carefully placed in a certain order,
were found to have moved. I will not weary the reader with
further details of these manifestations, since they had much m
common with many others that I have described in these Con-
fessions. The case possessed all the usual features associated with
a Poltergeist — even the stories of ‘miracles’ which never hap-
pened!

The ‘highest’ haunting I have ever known was also due to an
alleged Poltergeist, which manifested m die Concordia Hutte on
the Concordia-Platz, one of the chief mountaineering centres in
Switzerland. Huts, as the reader is aware, are erected all over the
Alps by the Swiss Alpine Club and are intended to serve as
refuges for persons who require shelter, die interion being fully
equipped with food, firing, bedding, and all die necessities for a
comfortable night.

One day, in the Concordia Hut on the Great Alctsch Glacier
near the Jungfraujoch, nearly 12,000 feet above sea-level, a man

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 51

was found dead. He had been to the Lotschen-Lucke Pass, had
apparently lost his way, and had staggered into the hut, too ex-
hausted even to light a fire: die paralysing cold of an Alpine
night crept upon him and he perished before a rescue party
could arrive.

The following summer, a party of tourists also had occasion
to seek the shelter of the hut. They had been there but a few
hours when they felt that something was the matter with die
place, and they were thoroughly scared. I was informed that not
a thing in the hut would stay in its place. The tourists lit a
lantern, and ‘invisible hands’ extinguished it; they tried to pre-
pare a meal, and the mischievous Geist scattered the utensils;
they attempted to sleep, and the unseen and unwelcome tenant
of the hut violendy disarranged the blankets! The whole party
spent a miserable night and, just as dawn was breaking, they
derided to quit the place, and descended mto Interlaken. I hap-
pened to be staying at this beautiful Swiss resort at the time, and
when they arrived I was consulted. I had to say that (assuming
their story to be true in every particular) the strange manifesta-
tions could be accounted for only by the presence of a Polter-
geist induced, the spiritualists would declare, by the dead moun-
taineer who had been found in the hut a few months previously.

I will continue my adventures in foreign haunted houses
with an account of one I investigated at the beautiful spa of
Baden-bei-Wien. I was staying in Vienna at the time, and read
in one of the papers that much excitement prevailed in Baden
owing to an alleged ghost that was haunting a cheap pension not
far from the Theresienstrasse. I took an electric tram to Baden,
where I arrived about seven o’clock in the evening. I made my
way to the house, presented my card, and heard the story of the
haunting. It appears that on the morning of the previous day, a
young girl staying at the pension had committed suicide by
throwing herself from one of die upper windows. The body
had been removed to the mortuary.

52 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

Twenty-four hours later, passers-by declared they saw her
staring out of the identical window from which she had leapt to
her death. Boarders in the house were convinced that they
could hear screams coming from the room she had occupied. I
spent some hours in the pension and must admit that I, too,
thought I heard very faint screams coming from die girl’s room.
But when I entered the apartment, I could neither see nor hear
anything unusual. By the time I had finished my investigation,
it was very late and I was fortunate in finding a taxi to take me
back to Vienna. Next day I again visited the place, and stood
for some hours outside the pension in the hope of seeing the
‘face at die window’. I was unfortunate, and saw nothing —
except the gaping crowds which impeded the traffic. I returned
to Vienna. The Baden ghost died a natural death — if I can use
such an expression — and I am still wondering whether I really
heard those faint screams outside the dead girl’s room. Imagina-
tion plays a major part in these cases.

I will close this chapter by relating an experience in my most
picturesque haunted house. The ‘house’ happens to be a German
castle, the Burg Falkenstein, in the Harz Mountains. On
October i, 1935, Fraulein Gerda Knoche, a law student from
Gottingen University, Mr. R. S. Lambert and I decided to ex-
plore the Schloss Falkenstein. We were staying at Halbcrstadt,
and an hour’s car ride took us to Ballenstedt, in the Eastern
Harz, above which is Falkenstein Castle. After a stiff climb
through pine woods, we arrived at the castle. It is 1050 feet
above sea-level, and is situated on a lofty rock. It dates back to
the eleventh century, and is, I think, one of the most beautiful
specimens of a mediaeval residence I have ever seen. It is com-
pletely equipped with contemporary furniture, trophies of the
chase, and other antiquities. It is a veritable museum.

At certain times of the year the owner, the Graf von Asse-
bourg, resides in the Schloss, which is usually occupied by care-
takers only. We were conducted over the castle and shown in-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 53

numerable objects of interest We saw the room where, be-
tween 1198 and 1235, the jurist Eyke von Repkow wrote the
Sachsenspiegel !, the oldest German legal code. We were shown
die rooms occupied by Bismarck, and visited die chapel in
which Martin Luther used to preach. Leading out of this chapel
is a door, with a massive iron lock. We were told that that door
has not been opened for five hundred years and no one knows
what is in the room (which has no windows) beyond it. If ever
die door is opened, disaster will befall the owners, and the house
will perish. I must admit that I was sceptical concerning the
story. Five hundred years is a long time, and it seemed fantastic
that no one has been curious enough, or bold enough, to brave
the ‘curse’ during this period.

But what interested me most was the fact that the Schloss
contained a ‘haunted bed’. It is a high, narrow affair of carved
wood, in a large apartment hung with tapestries. Ancient furni-
ture and bedroom utensils are in keeping with the ‘White
Lady’ who is alleged to haunt the chamber. I could obtain no
precise information as to who the lady was, except that she is
supposed to be an ancestress of the present owner of the Schloss.
The caretakers have seen her many times, at dusk, always hov-
ering round the bed, as if she were protecting someone or
something in it. The bed itself looked quite comfortable.
Though antique, the linen sheets appeared modem, if some-
what damp and cold. Mr. Lambert and I asked permission to
spend the night with the ‘White Lady of Falkenstein’, and were
informed that this might be possible if we could obtain the con-
sent of die owner of die Schloss. Wc said we would try.

The Herr Graf von Assebourg has a large mansion on the
edge of a forest a few miles from Falkenstein, and we were for-
tunate in finding the family in residence, though the Count
binwlf was hunting deer in the forest. We were introduced to
his daughter, who laughed heartily when she heard our strange
request. Of course, she had heard of the ‘White Lady’, but as

54 Some Adventures in Haunted Houses

she had never slept in the haunted bed, she had not seen her.
She confirmed the custodian’s story that the ‘curse room’ had
not been opened for five hundred years. ‘I am not superstitious’,
she said, ‘but I should not like to open the door, and I do not
know what the room contains.’ She could not give us permis-
sion to investigate the ‘White Lady’, and asked us to telephone
the Herr Graf when he returned from the chase. This we did,
but were informed that he could not allow the room — or the
‘White Lady’ — to be disturbed. He pointed out that the custo-
dians of the Schloss had no facilities for entertaining visitors;
that the bed linen was damp; and that we should be miserable
if we attempted to spend a night in the place. We were disap-
pointed, but consoled ourselves with the fact that we had had a
thoroughly ‘mediaeval’ day, and had witnessed the strange
phenomenon of a German aristocrat and his retainers still
hunting the deer m his own forest, just as his ancestors did nine
hundred years ago. The swastika has wrought many changes,
but the Harz remains inviolate.

IV. The Strange Exploits of a London Poltergeist

K Ion is so infrequently visited by an alleged Poltergeist that
hen one does put in an appearance, so to speak, it natur-
ally causes considerable excitement. This is what happened a
few years ago, the disturbances — very real, whether normal or
supernormal — lasting nearly two months.

The focus of the manifestations was centred in a small villa
in a South London suburb, a bustling working-class district
with no attractions, one would have thought, for a Poltergeist.

The villa was inhabited by a Mr. Edward Smith,1 an invalid
of eighty-six, who had lived there twenty-five years, and who
was removed to the infirmary at the request of the family when
the disturbances commenced. With Mr. Smith, senior, lived
his son Walter, a tutor aged twenty-seven, and his three sisters:
Miss Lucy Smith; Miss Anne Smith; and Mrs. Harold West, a
widow, who had a fourteen-year-old son Cyril. The Misses
Smith were school teachers.

The house in Bury Road is of a type of which tens of thou-
sands can be found scattered all round the Metropolis. It has
two floors and a small garden at front and rear. It is the typical
abode of the London artisan. From the garden of the Bury
Road house can be seen the back windows of some premises
occupied by a medical practitioner who keeps a private asylum
or mental home. I was told that men suffering from shell-shock
were his principal patients. From the doctor’s windows to the
back of the ’mystery house’, as the Press dubbed it, is about
eighty yards. It would be possible for a person standing at the

tAs this cate is so recent, I have disgniscd the names of die inmates of die
house.

56 The Strange Exploits of a London Poltergeist
windows of the private asylum to propel, by means of a cata-
pult, small objects such as coins, pieces of coal, etc., with suffi-
cient force to break die windows of the bouses in Bury Road.

It was just before Christmas 1927 that I first heard of the
strange happenings in Bury Road, but I attached no import-
ance to the report, which differed litde from many others which
I am continually receiving. Later, I received further informa-
tion from a private source.

On Thursday, January 19, 1928, at 9.30 a.m., I paid my first
visit. I found the family at breakfast, and my first impression
was distinctly favourable as regards the family and also as to the
improbability of die inmates of the house being responsible for
the destruction of their own home. For I at once saw that some-
one or something had caused considerable damage to the Smith
manage. Broken windows, smashed furniture, and the dibris of
ornaments were much in evidence. After a few minutes’ chat
I withdrew and promised to call again.

On returning to my office I found a message from the editor
of the Evening News asking if I would allow a reporter of that
paper to accompany me to the house. I consented, and at three
o’clock the same afternoon a car was sent for me, and for the
second time that day I found myself in Bury Road — this tune
with a Press representative.

Miss Anne Smith and Mr. Walter Smith were the only
members of the family who were in the house on the afternoon
of January 19, and from them we obtained the complete story
of the disturbances.

‘Except for Cyril’, said Mr. Smith, ‘we have lived in the
house for twenty-five years, happily and peacefully. Then on
November 29 lumps of coal, pieces of soda and pennies began
to fall on the conservatory — a lean-to building at the back of
the house.

‘Things became so serious’, Mr. Smith continued, ‘that I
decided to call the police. I had no other idea except that some

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 57

person was throwing things over the garden wall. A constable
came along, and together we stood in the back garden and kept
watch. Pieces of coal and pennies crashed on to the conserva-
tory root but we could not trace their flight. One lump of coal
hit the constable’s helmet. He ran to the garden wall, but there
was nobody there. On December 19 our washerwoman said
she would not work any longer in the house. She came to me in
a state of terror and pointed to a heap of red-hot cinders in the
outhouse. There was no fire there. How could they have got
there? Again I called a constable, and we decided to watch in
the kitchen. Two potatoes were hurled m while we were sitting
there. It was on Monday that the climax came — at nine o’clock
in the morning — and for an hour we were terror-stricken.
There were loud bangings m all parts of the house. My sister
ran to tell the magistrate. The window panel in my father’s
bedroom was smashed, and I decided, as he was in such a state of
fear, to remove him from the house.1 1 called in a man from the
street, and together we carried him from the room. Just as we
were taking him out a heavy chest of drawers crashed to the
floor in his bedroom. Previously my sister had seen the hall-
stand swaying and had called me. I caught it before it fell, but
some strange power seemed to tear it from my hands, and it
fell against the stairs, breaking in two parts.’

After we had heard the history of the disturbances from their
beginning, the reporter and I made a tour of the house and
carefully inspected the damage, which was considerable. Sev-
eral of the windows were broken, some with small holes in
them as if stones had been fired at them by means of a catapult.
Some of the panes of glass of the conservatory roof were also
shattered, and lying on the roof were pebbles, pennies, lumps of
coal, potatoes, pieces of soda, etc., which had been thrown
there. A door inside the house had also one of its glass panels
broken.

1Mr. Smith, senior, died before the ^mnrkanry, ceased

58 The Strange Exploits of a London Poltergeist

In die back bedroom we found the panels of the door shat-
tered; a heavy chest of drawers was splintered as if from a fall;
and the remains of several smashed ornaments were scattered
about, hi the hall we saw a smashed hat-stand in two pieces and
we viewed the remains of two broken bedroom doors, a tea
tray with one of its sides ripped off, and numbers of pictures
which had fallen to die ground. In the small garden were strewn
lumps of soda, coal, etc., and Mr. Smith pointed out two win-
dows of neighbouring houses which had received the unwel-
come attention of the alleged Geist: both had small holes in
them as if caused by stones shot from a catapult.

After our tour of inspection we returned to the kitchen,
where die four of us — Miss Anne Smith, Mr. Walter Smith, the
Evening News representative, and myself— stood chatting. We
were die sole occupants of die house. The reporter and I were
just about to take our departure when some hard object fell
with a resounding thwack in the passage at the back of us. The
kitchen is connected with the scullery by a short passage. The
scullery leads directly to the garden by a door which we had
just dosed.

Upon the fall of the object we four at once proceeded into
the passage and found that a metal ferro-cenum gas-lighter,
weighing two ounces, with a wooden handle (over-all length
about eight inches), was lying midway between the kitchen
and scullery. Undoubtedly, it had been projected from behind
us and had, apparently, struck the wall in its flight. We imme-
diately retraced our steps through the scullery and into the
garden, but no one was visible. Nothing further occurred that
day.

Next morning I was rung up by the editor of the Evening
News, who told me that the authorities had removed young
Smith for observation as to his mental state. I was astounded at
this fresh development. I had had an hour’s conversation with
Walter Smith on die previous day and had found him quite

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 59

normal and very intelligent. It appears that the police had
formed a theory that Mr. Smith, junior, was responsible for die
manifestations and decided to examine him at a local hospital

I again visited the house on Monday afternoon (January 23)
and had a long interview with Mrs. West, the widowed sister.
The Evening News reporter again accompanied me.

The fact that Mr. Walter Smith was not now in die house
made no difference to the alleged phenomena. Mrs. West told
us that during the week-end the manifestations had been both
varied and violent; besides the usual arrival of pieces of coal
etc., there had been ‘great activity amongst the furniture’.
Chairs, of their own volition, ‘had marched down the hall
smgle file’, and three times Mrs. West attempted to lay the
table for Saturday’s dinner. On each occasion the chairs had
piled themselves up on the table, making it impossible for the
woman to proceed with the preparation of the meal At die
third time she went out into the road and asked a police officer
who was on duty there to enter the house and examine the
‘phenomena’ himself. He naturally accused Mrs. West of piling
up the furniture herself. A London policeman has litde imagin-
ation!

Three persons appear to have witnessed the alleged spon-
taneous movement of the furniture, viz. Mrs. West, Miss
Smith, and Cyril West, the fourteen-year-old boy, who was so
frightened — it was stated — that he could hardly be induced to
sit on a chair in case it should move. He was afterwards sent to
the country to recuperate.

After we had heard the story of what had happened during
the week-end we made another examination of the house. It
appeared to be in much the same state as when we left it on the
previous Friday. We then returned to the kitchen, and the four
of us (Mrs. West, Mis Smith, die reporter and myself) stood
chatting in die kitchen, when suddenly there was a sound as if a
heavy object had fallen behind us, in die kitchen, but near the

60 The Strange Exploits of a London Poltergeist
passage leading to the scullery, the door of which was shut. To me,
Ac noise sounded like the fall of a heavy boot or brush and I at
once began to look for such an article; so did the Evening News
representative. In a minute or so I saw something dark under a
chair in the comer and putting my hand on it I found it was a
pair of lady’s black shoes. Actually I put my hand on a hard
object which was in the right shoe and brought it to light. It
was a small bronze ornament in the form of a cherub, weighing
about four ounces.

The cries of astonishment — real or simulated — with which
the ladies greeted my ‘find’ were renewed when it was dis-
covered that Ac ornament was missing from Ac mantelpiece of
the front sitting-room where, I was informed, it had reposed
(together wiA its fellow-cherub) for twenty-five yean. We
were assured that Aese cherubim had never been removed from
the front room. I continued my search of Ae kitchen, but could
discover nothing else which could have fallen.

We searched Ae house once more but satisfied ourselves that
we were Ae only occupants. The reporter and I arranged to
spend Ac next night in Ae house. The following day I was in-
formed that the Bury Road house had been shut up, so that I
gave up the idea of staying all night. The strange occurrences
were driving Ae family to distraction. WiA boA of its male
members away, one daughter ill, and the little boy dispatched
to Ae country, Ae two remaining sisters determined to quit the
house of evil associations. The crowds, too, were frightening
them. During Ae week-end, mounted police were necessary in
order to keep back the gaping mob which all day and night
stood in the road and gazed open-mouthed, at nothing more
thrilling Aan a couple of broken panes of glass. As I was leaving
on Ae Monday a burly ruffian wiA a Russian accent accosted
me and asked if he could ‘mind the place’ for me. He would
have looked— and felt — much more at home in a vodka bar at
Minsk. I declined his services — wiAout thanks.

6i

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

During die early part of the week Miss Smith and her sister
decided to return to the house. On the Tuesday the editor of the
Daily Express asked me if I would make the experiment of
taking a medium to the house in order to see if she could get
any ‘impressions’. I consented. The psychic was a Miss X, the
daughter of a well-known London professional man and, of
course, an amateur.

The Daily Express representative was Mr. F. G. H. Salusbury,
whom I knew. We visited Bury Road on Wednesday after-
noon, January 25, 1928, arriving at the house about three
o’clock. Mrs. West was there — the only member of the Smith
family who entered the place that afternoon.

We took Miss X to every room in the house in order to dis-
cover if she received any ‘impression’. She at once declared that
the place made her feel ‘miserable’. This was not particularly
illuminating, as most suburban houses have the same effect
upon me. But in the kitchen Miss X declared that she felt
‘chilly’. There was a good fire burning in the room — in fact,
the kitchen was the only apartment which was heated. Neither
Mr. Salusbury nor I felt cool m this room; on the contrary, we
felt much warmer. But Miss X continued to get colder and
positively shivered. Her respiration slowed down and her hands
were distinctly cold. We left her sitting by the fire watching
Mrs. West do her household duties. We then continued our
search of the house, carefully closing the kitchen door behind us.

We again examined the upper rooms of the house, inspecting
and examining minutely every article of furniture, ornaments,
etc., and noting their exact positions. The rooms on the top
floor of the Bury Road house are divided by a passage which
runs from the back to the front of the building. During our
inspection of these rooms we must have traversed this narrow
and well-lighted passage at least six or seven times. Neither of
us noticed anything on the floor of the passage. We were in the
front room when we both heard an object fell in some part of

da The Strange Exploits of a London Poltergeist
die house. We immediately turned to go once more to the
lower part of the building and simultaneously saw in the pas-
sage, with the light filling full on it, a piece of common yellow
soap such as is used for washing clothes. It was lying right in
our path, about six feet from the door of the room we had just
entered. We both declared that it was utterly impossible for us
to have passed that soap once without seeing it; to have done so
seven times without noticing it or treading on it would have
been a miracle.

Without touching the soap we made our way downstairs to
the kitchen, the door of which was still closed. Both Mrs. West
and Miss X declared that neither had moved during our tour
of inspection: the door of the kitchen had not been opened and
no one could enter the house except by the front door (which
opened only on the inside) or through the garden, scullery and
kitchen.

Mrs. West accompanied us to the top floor again and exam-
ined the soap, which she said belonged to the scullery. It showed
no signs of having had a blow or of filling heavily. Miss X was
still very cold and shivering, though she had just come from a
warm kitchen. We stayed in the house for another half-hour,
but nothing further happened.

Mr. Walter Smith returned home a few days after the inci-
dent of the soap. As I prophesied, he was found to be perfectly
normal, and it was preposterous that he should have been com-
pelled to leave his home. That was the end of the Bury Road
affair, and die house was vacated soon afterwards.

* ★ * ★ *

It is obvious that the occurrences which I have described were
either genuine phenomena or were due to some mischievous
person or persons with a very powerful motive for disturbing
the peace of the locality.

My own first impression was that the ex-soldiers at the
mental home had discovered that the Bury Road house was an

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 63

excellent target for their missiles. The angle at which portions
of the house were struck originated this theory in my mind.
There had also been ‘friction’ between the Smiths and the in-
mates of the mental home. But no normal external force could
have smashed the crockery and broken the furniture inside the
house. I was then faced with the alternative of suspecting the
Smith family of deliberately destroying the home which had
sheltered them for twenty-five years, or attributing die pheno-
mena to a supernormal origin.

I at once acquitted the boy, Cyril, ofhaving any guilty know-
ledge of the disturbances, assuming they were caused normally,
hi the first place, he was absent when many of the phenomena
occurred; secondly, he had not the physical strength to inflict
the damage which some of the furniture sustained. And with a
house full of people any suspicious action on his part would
have been noticed instandy. And on the one occasion when I
saw him, he looked thoroughly scared. Though phenomena of
the so-called Poltergeist type are often associated (as with
Eleonore Zugun1) with adolescents, I was convinced that in the
case under review there was no connection between the boy
and the manifestations.

It has been suggested that the disturbances were deliberately
planned by some of the members of the Bury Road family in
order to frighten Smith pbe out of the house— for what reason
is not stated. But that theory will not bear analysis. Though the
most violent of the alleged phenomena occurred when Mr.
Smith, senior, was in residence, the manifestations were after-
wards so numerous and disturbing that, as we have seen, Mr.
Smith, junior, was suspected of originating them and was sub-
jected to considerable annoyance and personal discomfort after
his father had left the house. And no family would deliberately
smash up their home for the purpose of driving out one of their

1See Leaves from a Psychic’s Case-Bock, by Harry Price, London, 1933,
pp. 237-72.

64 The Strange Exploits of a London Poltergeist
number, especially when that member is the head of die family
and the responsible tenant. And it was after Mr. Smith senior’s
departure that the remainder of the family were subjected to
die distracting attention of the public, police and Press.

The incidents of the gas-lighter, the cherub and the soap still
puzzle me. On die three occasions when these objects were pre-
cipitated near me, I could never be quite certain that a normal
explanation could not be found for the supposed phenomena.
It must be admitted that the case presents some very unusual
features. The removal of the two members of the household,
together with the suggestion that the early disturbances were
caused by the inmates of the sanitorium at the rear of the house,
marks the Bury Road mystery as being decidedly out of die
ordinary run of such cases. I feel convinced that the original
trouble was caused by some of the soldiers who were receiving
treatment at the private mental home. That the worry and
anxiety caused by these disturbances reacted on some of the
Smith family seems almost certain. Whether this reaction was a
normal or extra-normal one is, in the absence of further evi-
dence, a matter for speculation. But I consider that the evidence
for the abnormality of some of the occurrences is rather stronger
than that for the theory that the Smith family was responsible
for all the trouble. And there, I am afraid, we must leave it.

V. ' Grand Hotel * and Other Mysteries

Some of the most curious adventures which have fallen to
my lot have been, so to speak, thrust upon me. In parti-
cular, the ‘ghost of the Unter den Linden’ (as I call it) was de-
cidedly not of my seeking and proved to be die most un-
pleasant incident of a psychic (if really psychic) nature I have
ever experienced.

A year or so after the War I decided to visit some of the
larger German cities in order to hunt for boob on magic.
Owing to the very favourable Valuta (the mark was tumbling
every day) I thought I could acquire them cheaply, and I was
not mistaken. I visited Leipzig, Dresden, Hanover, Cologne
and Berlin and picked up nearly two hundred worb on magic
for less than a pound sterling.

I arrived in Berlin on a Monday afternoon in September,
and took a taxi to that hotel in the Unter den Linden made
famous by Vicki Baum in her Grand Hotel. Those who have
read this diverting story will be able to visualise the sort of
place ‘Grand Hotel’ is, and the type of client it attracts. I need
only remark that it is— or was— the most fashionable hotel in
Berlin, and probably the largest. It was my first visit: normally,
the hotel is too expensive for me and I usually stay at die Hotel
Central, opposite the Friedrichstrasse Station, as it is more con-
venient for the railway and shops. But I was tempted to stay at
‘Grand Hotel’ on this particular visit owing, as I have re-
marked, to the fact that die rate of exchange was so much in
my favour.

After a wash and the filling up of innumerable police forms, I
thought I would stroll as far as the Cafif Bauer at the comer of
a 65

66 * Grand Hotel and Other Mysteries

the Unter den Linden and Friedrichstrasse and have -what then

did duty for a cocktail before I returned to the hotel for dinner.

I commenced my walk and, in doing so, stopped at the cor-
ner of the Pariser Platz, which is close by, in order to purchase
from a newsboy a copy of the Berliner Lokal-Anzeigcr to ascer-
tain what plays were running. I paid for my paper, looked up,
and saw the most revolting travesty of a man it has ever been
my misfortune to behold. He, too, was about to buy a paper.

How he came to be by my side I do not know to this day.
Though the Unter den Linden was crowded, except for the boy
and myself, every person was in motion. The impression I re-
ceived was that the man appeared from nowhere, instantane-
ously, as if through a trap door. Even in a crowded thorough-
fare one instincnvely feels if a person stops by one’s side. I will
swear that there were only two of us when I put my hand in
my pocket for the note; when I received the paper — a matter of
a second — there were three of us.

I should like to describe accurately the appearance of the
stranger. But I can no more do so than I can convey to the
reader the exact effect the man had on me. He was about five
feet eleven inches in height, thin build, and very upright. He
was dressed entirely in black, with a long black overcoat and a
round, clerical hat. His coat collar was turned up and buttoned
round his neck.

There was nothing extraordinary about his attire: it was
simply strange. It was his face that was terrifying, and the sudden
shock of seeing it made me almost physically sick.

His face was long and thin, with gaunt features and ears that
appeared much too large for him. It was of an even redness, the
colour of new bricks, and appeared to have no skin on it; it
might have been carved out of a joint of raw beef His eyes
were deep set, glassy, vacant-looking and expressionless. I could
not see his hair and he appeared to have no eyebrows. I thought
of the ‘raw-head and bloody bones’ of my nursery days.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 67

As the newsboy handed me the paper, something compelled
me to look up, and I was confronted with those terrible eyes.
Not only was I startled at seeing anyone there, but those eyes
almost petrified me. I appeared to look not at them, but through
them, as if they were holes in his head instead of eyes. What
struck me as extraordinary was the fret that, although I was
looking at him full in the free, he did not appear to see me: his
eyes were absolutely vacant and lifeless.

I hurried away from the human monstrosity as fest as I could,
and it took a stiff glass of brandy to restore me to something
like my normal self. By the time I arrived at the Cafe Bauer I
was stone cold and shivering. I was not frightened, but the
meeting with the living apparition had produced an extraordi-
nary physiological effect upon me.

Next morning I had arranged to go to Potsdam. As I wanted
to make a call at Spandau en route, I took a train to this suburb
from the Lehrte Station, with the intention of joining the
steamer that plies between Spandau and Potsdam. Spandau is at
the confluence of the Spree and Havel, which latter river is
much visited during the summer months.

My business in Spandau occupied very little time and by
eleven o’clock I was ready for my steamer trip to Potsdam. I
made my way to the Charlotten-Brucke and boarded the
steamboat which I found alongside.

The steamers on the Havel are quite small, and the one I
joined was, owing to the lateness of the season, almost empty,
not more than a dozen people being on board. While waiting
for the boat to start I wandered round the deck, and, to my
horror, saw the ‘ghost of the Unter den Linden’ leaning against
the iron ladder that led to the bridge, on the farther side of the
vessel. He was reading a paper and, as I passed, he looked up
and, for the second time, our eyes met. They were the same
glassy, lifeless eyes and raw free that I had beheld at the comer
of the Pariser Platz the previous afternoon. The man looked so

68 ‘ Grand HoteT and Other Mysteries

ghastly that I simply would not travel with him a yard if it
could be helped. So I hurried off the boat, and caught another
steamer, going in the opposite direction, across the broad Havel
to die pleasure resort of Tegelort, where I spent the day. I could
not help thinking it was a curious coincidence that I should have
met the ‘ghost’ twice within eighteen hours.

The next day (Wednesday) was spent among the book deal-
ers and various people I knew, and proved quite uneventful.
The following evening (Thursday) I decided to spend at the
Wmtergarten theatre of varieties in the Oorotheenstrasse. This
is a music-hall at which one can dine while watching the enter-
tainment. I had already booked a table on the balcony over-
looking the auditorium, and arrived just before nine o’clock. I
enjoyed die meal and was just sipping my coffee when, happen-
ing to look straight ahead along the front row of tables, I saw
that terrible creature for the third time. He was three tables
ahead of me, apparendy enjoying his meal, though he was
eating like an automaton. He was in a faultless dinner jacket,
which seemed to throw into prominence that terrible face and
those awful staring eyes. He appeared to be entirely bald and
his scalp was of the same brick-red hue as his face. As I gazed at
him he raised his head and our eyes met. At least my eyes met
his, and again I got the impression of looking into two holes in
his head. Though we stared at each other, he appeared as if
stone blind: not a vestige of expression was in those eyes, which
might have belonged to a mummy. I could not help comparing
him to one of those dombies1 or animated corpses, revitalised by
magic, which are made to work in the fields of Haiti, if we can
believe the travellers who tell us these stories.

Almost sick at the sight of the horror in front of me, I
changed my position and sat on the chair on the other side of
the table, so that I now had my back to the stranger. I
found that I could not see the entertainment from this angle,
1See The Magic Island, by W. B. Seabrook, London [1929].

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 69

so called a waiter and told him to remove my coffee, etc., to
a table on the second tier; just above me. When I had settled
down again I beckoned the head waiter and asked him if he
knew the man who had caused me to change my seat. I
stood up in order to point out the position of the table and
found to my surprise that the stranger had already left the
theatre. The head waiter made some inquiries concerning die
diner, though no one seemed to know him. Curiously enough,
the waiter who served the ‘automaton had noticed nothing
peculiar in the man who, it was admitted, had departed sud-
denly for no apparent reason.

The ‘ghost of the Unter den Linden’ was beginning to get on
my nerves. Though quite without fear in these matters, the
sight of the man was nauseating and I could not help wondering
to myself whether the ‘corpse’ deliberately put himself in my
way— a possibility which sent cold shivers down my spine.
Fortunately, I was leaving for home the next morning and, for
the only time in my life, I was glad to get out of Berlin.

Friday morning I spent shopping; returned to ‘Grand Hotel’
for lunch; asked for my bill; had my bag brought down, and
ordered a taxi. I was catching a train from the Friedrichstrasse
Station that left just after two o’clock.

I was standing in the vestibule or lounge of the hotel waiting
for the head waiter to bring the change from the notes I had
given him when, for the fourth — and last — time, I saw the
‘automaton’. He passed through the heavy swing doors like a
robot, walked straight past me (it was the first time I had seen
him walking), crossed the lounge and proceeded down a pas-
sage which, I think, led to several public rooms and (I am
speaking from memory) a palm court. Just at that moment the
head waiter returned and I at once asked him if he knew die
man. As he could see only the back of the retreating figure, he
said he did not recognise him. I replied that I particularly
wished to know the name of the man. An under-manager of

70 ‘ Grand Hotel ’ and Other Mysteries

die hotel was standing near and I repeated my request to him.
The head waiter was told to ascertain who the guest was, and
proceeded in the direction of the palm court. He returned in a
few minutes with the information that the man he had seen just
previously was nowhere to be found. I replied that that was
absurd as he had just passed us. The under-manager then ac-
companied the waiter in a further search and returned in ten
minutes with the positive declaration that there was no trace of the
man. Every room in that quarter of the hotel had been explored;
the public rooms, palm court and every nook and comer had
been examined. I was told that it was impossible for anyone to
have left the building from that side of the hotel, and that no
escape could have been made by a window. The head waiter
was just as astonished as myself, as he had seen the back of the
tall military-looking figure as he passed down the passage. Un-
happily, I had to catch my train or I would have searched the
hotel myself. I left Berlin with the great mystery unsolved.

Looking at this case in retrospect, I am inclined to think that
the whole affair is capable of a normal explanation. Many
people have curious and unpleasant faces, and my meeting with
die ‘automaton’ four times may have been accidental and an
extraordinary coincidence. His disappearance m the hotel might
have been explained normally if I had had time to unravel the
mystery. That the man was objective (and not a mere hallucina-
tion) is proved by the fact that he was seen by two waiters (one
of whom spoke to him) who admitted this fact.

I used to think that the case of the Berlin automaton must be
unique, until, quite recendy, I acquired a rare tract which de-
scribes a meeting with a similar unpleasant personage: A Strange,
True and Dreadful Relation of the Devils appearing to Thomas Cox
a Hackney-Coach-Man ; . . . First, in the habit of a Gentleman with a
Roll of Parchment in his hand, and then in the shape of a Bear, which
afterwards vanished away in a flash of Fire . . . , London, 1684. It
was an extraordinary affair, but Thomas rather spoils the story

Confusions of a Ghost-Hunter 71

by admitting that just previous to his adventure he ‘called in at
a Victualling house, where he drank a Pot or two of drink*. I
cannot plead guilty to any such indiscretion !

I have had many curious experiences abroad; and, because I
have done so much night travelling, I can make myself thor-
oughly comfortable in a sleeping-car or ship’s cabin and enjoy
a good night’s rest. As a matter of fact, I am a very sound
sleeper. Once, when a boy, I slept through a fire that con-
sumed the house opposite; and the feet that the road was full of
fire engines, police, and people, and our own house was har-
bouring what could be saved from the conflagration across the
road, felled to disturb my sister or me. I make this digression to
emphasise the feet that I do not easily awaken unless there is
some very good reason for it, or something startles me into
consciousness — as m the affair of the Orient Express, and the
‘haunted sleeping-car’.

Early in May 1926 1 was returning from Vienna, where I had
been lecturing at the University and investigating the case of
Eleonore Zugun (who afterwards became famous as the
'Poltergeist girl’)1 at the invitation of Professor Dr. Hans
Thirrmg of Vienna University.

After an enjoyable stay in the Austrian capital, I joined the
Orient Express at Vienna West, the train leaving, if I remember
nghtly, at about two o’clock m the afternoon. I had already
booked my place in the Schlajwagen and, having settled down in
my compartment, I extracted a note-book from my dressing-
case and proceeded to write up the extraordinary affair of the
Rumanian Poltergeist girl and her friend Dracu.

The afternoon and evening passed without untoward inci-
dent. What with meals and my literary labours, I discovered to
my surprise that it was past eleven o’clock and time to turn in.

1See Leaves from a Psy dust's Case-Book, by Harry Price, London, 1933,
pp. 22-7-72

72 ‘ Grand Hotel' and Other Mysteries

Hie compartment I was occupying consisted of two berths,
but only one of the beds had been made up. I occupied the
lower berth. I had chosen a compartment in the middle of the
coach in order that a minimum of jolting would enable me to
write in comfort. I was too experienced a traveller to find any
difficulty in making myself comfortable in the somewhat con-
fined space which was my bed, and in a very short time I was in
a deep sleep. Before turning in I had switched off all the lights in
die compartment except a deep blue one which was installed m
case of emergency.

I had been asleep for what seemed only a few minutes when I
was awakened as suddenly as if someone had fired a pistol shot
by my side. I jumped up, and, for a moment, thought we had
struck something. But die rhythmic hum of the wheels as they
ghded over the metals reassured me that, mechanically at any
rate, everything was in order. I looked at my watch, discovered
it was nearly two o’clock and realised that we must be nearing
Frankfurt (Main). I slipped out of my berth, opened the door
leading into the corridor and looked up and down the coach.
Everything and everybody were quiet. I would have rung for
the attendant but I knew that this tired and overworked official
was snatching an hour’s rest in some unoccupied compartment
and I did not like to disturb him. But I was convinced that
something had happened.

1 turned in again, and at last fell mto a fitful dream-broken
sleep. For the second time in that memorable night I awoke as
suddenly as if 1 had been shaken. Not only did 1 awake, hut I
had an unpleasant feeling that I was not alone in the compart-
ment. I am not psychic — thank God! — but I am extremely sen-
sitive to influences (especially hostile influences) around me, and
I felt that something was wrong with that compartment. My
watch informed me that it was nearly five o’clock and that we
were approaching Cologne. It was already daylight, but I
switched on all the electric lights I could find and searched my

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 73

compartment, the corridor, and die compartments — which I
knew were unoccupied — contiguous to my own. I could find
nothing amiss, but I still had that curious feeling that something
had awakened me. I rang for the attendant.

When the official appeared I asked him point-blank what was
wrong with the coach and, especially, my compartment. He
declared that everything was in order, and that he bad heard
nothing. He suggested that I had been disturbed by the train
going over the points. I retorted that in that case I should have
got no sleep at all, as the coach must have crossed hundreds of
points during the night. I refused to argue the matter further,
ordered some tea and shaving water, and began dressing. Just
as I finished my toilet we ran into Cologne Hauptbahnhof and I
alighted to stretch my legs. The disturbances of the night still
puzzled me.

The Orient Express arrived at Ostend punctually soon after
ten o’clock, and the attendant came to know if I wanted my
baggage conveyed to the boat. I handed him a tip and was pre-
paring to leave the tram when the man hesitated, beckoned me
back into the compartment, and confessed that the particular
coach we were in had a ‘history’. This is the story:

About three years previously a representative of an Amster-
dam diamond firm had been m Budapest with a large parcel of
cut stones which he had instructions to submit to a certain
Central European notability who was in the market for some
specimen brilliants. It appears that the customer in question did
not keep die appointment owing to a telegram having been
wrongly delivered, and the representative found himself in the
Hungarian capital with no client and a parcel of diamonds
worth many thousands of pounds. He succumbed to tempta-
tion. He ‘framed’ a bogus assault and robbery, reported to the
police that the diamonds had been stolen and telegraphed his
firm to the same effect. During the police investigation he fled
from Budapest, joined the Orient Express, which left at eight

74 ‘ Grand HoteV and Other Mysteries

o’clock in the morning, and got dear into Austria. He had
booked through to Brussels, where, it is presumed, he hoped to
sell the stones.

From the subsequent history of the case it appears that imme-
diately he left Budapest a hue and cry was raised, but inter-
national red tape prevented his speedy arrest. A warrant was
issued in Austria and at the frontier town of Passau he escaped,
by a few minutes, the net that had been spread for him.

The Orient Express stops at Wurzburg, and it was here that a
friend of the fugitive met him, it is thought, by appointment.
The friend was a woman, and for the minute or so that the
train was in the station the couple were seen to converse
excitedly in the compartment the man occupied — the identical
compartment I was destined to sleep in three years later.

What transpired during that interview will never be known,
as the woman was not traced. But it is thought that she in-
formed him that the insurance company had obtained a warrant
for his arrest and that a posse of Belgian police was waiting for
him at the frontier town of Aix-la-Chapelle (Aachen). This is
only surmise, but what is known for certain is that the diamond
traveller blew out his brains within two hours of the train leav-
ing Wurzburg. The attendant heard the pistol shot — as I
thought I did, and at about the same tune and place — and
rushed to the compartment. But the man was dead. The body
was put out at Frankfurt. The diamonds were found intact.

That is the attendant’s story, and I believe every word of it.
He told me that several people had complained about my
compartment and he never put passengers in there if it could be
avoided. But I had booked my sleeper in Vienna, had insisted
upon a central position, and it just happened that I had been
allotted the fetal wagon-lit.

Adventure dogged me after I left the ‘haunted’ coach. Upon
my arrival at Ostend quay I found that a general strike had
been declared in London and, for some extraordinary reason.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 75

die Belgian steamers to Dover had been suspended. I tele-
phoned to Amsterdam to try and persuade the Amsterdam-
London airplane to pick me up at Os tend: every seat was
booked. Finally, I had to hire a car to take me across the sand-
dunes to Calais, where, next morning, I caught a steamer for
Dover, arriving home twenty-four hours late.

The affair of the ‘haunted’ sleeper reminds me that Mr.
C. E. M. Joad and I once slept in an alleged haunted bed in a
private museum at Chiswick. It was a great sixteenth-century
bed of carved walnut, bearing a coat of arms in many colours.
The owner of the bed purchased it in France for a ‘song’, be-
cause the dealer said it was ‘unlucky’. She had it shipped to
England.

Because the bed was so ornamental, its new owner decided to
use it. The first mght, she told us, she was hurled to the floor,
striking her head against the wall as she felL The indentation in
the wall can be seen to this day. But she still insisted upon
sleeping in the bed, and the ‘falls’ gave way to some less painful
‘visions’, one of which was that of a richly dressed man who
was strangled and then placed in the bed. Other people also
attempted to sleep in the bed, and were either thrown out or
kept awake by some ‘dreadful presence’. The owner decided to
seek my aid.

As a feature of the case was the catapulting of the sleeper
upon the floor, it occurred to me that there might be a strong
spring under the bed that could, in some way, project a person
touching it. I examined the bed very carefully by daylight, but
could find no hidden mechanism.

Joad and I arrived at the museum about eleven o'clock on the
night of September 15, 1932, and took up our vigil in the
‘haunted bed’-room. It was a most extraordinary place. The
room was packed with valuable antiques. I sealed the windows
and door. I installed an electrical photographic set-up, with two

7 6 ‘ Grand Hotel * W Of/icr Mysteries

cameras focused on the bed, with a lead and switch which I
could hold under the clothes. A press of the button, and two
photographs would be taken.

We turned in at about 11.30. From my side of the bed I could
see the first copy of the warrant which sent Charles I to his death.
Near the foot of the bed was a print of Cromwell gazing mto
King Charles’s coffin. In a comer of the room was a sixteenth-
century oak chest with a carving depicting a lion about to
devour a negro. It was all very macabre. I switched off the
lights and awaited events.

The night passed peacefully, with one amusing interlude. An
antique censer was suspended near the head of the bed. At
about daybreak we saw it begin swinging slowly, and at once
exclaimed: ‘A phenomenon at last!’ But we discovered that the
movement was caused by the vibration of the tube trains which
ran beneath the house. We experienced no further excitement
that night. We were not thrown out of bed; we saw no visions;
we had no bad dreams. In fact, nothing happened. Having
taken a picture of ourselves in bed, we dressed and let ourselves
out just as the milk was arriving. We heard nothing further
about the haunted bed. Joad and I are first-rate exorcists 1

Another foreign adventure which I must record occurred in
Paris. Before me, as I write, are two unusual, though ordinary,
objects: a copper disc m two pieces, and a two-inch cube of
white wax. But if the objects themselves are ordinary, they
have an extraordinary history.

It is a tradition that if one sits on the terrasse of the Caf£ de la
Paix long enough, eventually one sees every person one knows;
it is a much rarer occurrence to be accosted by name by a per-
son one has never known, or even heard of. But this is what
happened to me one cold evening a few days before Christmas
1930.

I had just arrived from London and was stretching my legs

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter T7

on the Grands Boulevards after dinner, before turning in for the
night. Tired, I sank into a chair outside the Caffc de la Paix and
ordered coffee and a liqueur. For nearly an hour I watched the
living panorama that sways backwards and forwards, by day
and by night, along the Boulevard des Capucines. Although a
cold night, the terrasse was full and I was compelled to seat
myself at a table on the very edge of the surging crowd — a prey
to the weary advances of the prowling priestesses of Venus (one
of them had a wooden leg) whose ‘beat’ took them past the
ca £6 and who, quite mechanically, accosted me with their eyes,
if not with their tongues.

I called for my addition and was about to depart hotelwards
when a genial old soul in a long black cape and a boulevardier
beard halted by my table, looked at me, hesitated, looked again
and finally exclaimed in excellent English: ‘A thousand par-
dons, sir, but have I the honour of addressing Monsieur Henri
Preece?’ I told him he had and that the honour was entirely his.

As I regarded him with some astonishment he hastened to
explain the mystery. The stranger told me that he had just been
reading an article of mine m Nash’s Magazine1 concerning a
stance I had had with Mrs. Eileen Garrett, the medium, at which
the alleged spirit of Conan Doyle had manifested. He had re-
cognised me as the original of the excellent photograph repro-
duced in Nash’s, and had ventured to accost me. I complimented
him on his perspicacity and invited him to take the vacant chair
at my table, at the same time recalling the waiter. The stranger
introduced himself as Monsieur Roux.

After chatting for some tune about mediums in general and
Heinrich Nusslem’s famous ‘automatic’ paintings* m particular,
conversation drifted to the subject of my article, and we dis-
cussed my theory that what Mrs. Garrett had ‘tuned in’ to was
iPublished rim ul taneo uily in Nash's Magazine (London) and Cosmo-
politan (New York) for Jan. 1931. On tale Dec. ij, 1930.

•See ‘The Automatic Art of Hemnch Nualem’, by Harry Price, in Psychic
Research, Journal of the American S.P.R., Nov. 1928.

7* ‘ Grand Hotel' and Other Mysteries

not the spirit of Doyle but his personality which had persisted
after death. M. Roux then confided to me that although he
was not psychic himself, he had a gift or faculty of ‘externalis-
ing’ his own vitality or energy, transforming it into heat, and
projecting it. He said he could externalise the heat of his body,
and convey that heat to an inanimate object a short distance
away by some mental process he could not explain, but which
demanded great concentration. I said I was interested, although
I am afraid I looked rather bored: I was tired and had heard
similar stories so many times.

M. Roux went on to inform me that he had raised the tem-
perature of a glass of cold water to the extent of three degrees
Centigrade, by merely looking at it for half an hour. He said
the thermometer could not lie. I agreed. He declared that if he
gazed steadily at a lighted wax candle it would be consumed
more quickly to the extent of five millimetres per hour. I was
not in a position to deny it. He described further experiments of
a similar nature in an attempt to convince me of what he called
‘exterionsation of energy’.

The boulevardier then asked me what I thought of it all. I
suggested that an ocular demonstration would be more con-
vincing than sitting there in the cold talking about the alleged
miracles, and he agreed. He apologised for not asking me to his*
one-room flatlet, in the Rue de l’Abbaye, and suggested that
we might meet at the same caft on the morrow. I said I would
be there at five o’clock.

The next afternoon found me at the Caf£ de la Paix at the
time named. I want to be quite truthful and inform the reader
that when alone in Paris I am usually to be found at the Cafi de
la Paix at five o’clock; I was not, therefore, risking a wasted
journey. Candidly, I did not expect to see M. Roux again, but
I did him an injustice.

Punctually to the minute the cheery maker of miracles sailed
up to my table, and before he had removed his gloves he pulled

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 79

out of his purse a copper disc, slightly larger than a penny, and
nearly twice as thick. Both sides of the disc shone like a mirror.

When I had ordered his parfait amour (which I am sure
tastes as good as it sounds) we got to business. He asked me to
examine the disc carefully (all conjurers start like that) and to
‘ring’ it on the table. I did so, and was satisfied that it contained
no hidden mechanism. Then I was told to hold the disc in the
palm of my right hand, within a metre of his eyes. This I did,
resting my elbow on the table. Without touching the disc or
my hand, my friend gazed steadily at the piece of shining copper
for, I should think, nearly ten minutes. At the end of that period
he asked me if the disc felt warmer to my hand. I had to admit
that I thought it did.

Of course, a copper coin gets warmer if held in or on the
hand, as the heat of the body is conveyed to it; but I had to
acknowledge the fret that the disc really did seem warmer than
when normally held in the hand and, as an experiment, I closed
my hand over the copper piece. It then appeared to get cooler.

I told M. Roux that I was really interested, and asked him to
lend me the disc until the same hour next day, when I promised
to return it to him. He acquiesced with delight, knowing that
he had puzzled ‘Henri Preece’.

I have been in the psychic business much too long to be un-
aware of the fret that suggestion and self-deception are respon-
sible for many so-called miracles — especially m the case of
cures claimed by ‘psychic’ healers. And I wondered to what
extent suggestion had been responsible for the fancied hotting
up of the disc. When I returned to my hotel I held the disc in
my fist for nearly an hour in the hope that I should imagine it
was getting warmer. My imagination was not equal to the
task, and the disc obstinately refused to raise whatever latent
heat it possessed. What suggestion had done — I argued— auto-
suggestion failed to do.

Thinking the matter over in bed that night, I decided to try

8o

‘Grand Hotel * and Other Mysteries
an experiment on M. Roux. Next morning I made my way to
the Boulevard St. Germain and purchased from the chemists,
Poulenc Frfcres, a block of hard white wax, about two inches
square and two inches deep. It had a fairly high melting-point.1

Punctually at five o’clock the Caft de la Paix found M. Roux
and myself seated at a comer table and, not without some mis-
givings, I produced my cube of wax. Could M. Roux melt it
before my eyes? M. Roux was sorry, but he could not; but he
would like to try an experiment ofhis own.

I was requested to hold the cube on the palm of my right
hand and to place the copper disc on top of the wax. This I did.
M. Roux then removed his gloves, placed the palms of his
hands flat on the table, and calmly gazed at that disc for, I
should imagine, fifteen minutes (I ought to have rimed him but
omitted to do so).

Was it my fancy, or was the disc sinking into the wax? Yes,
the old man’s claims appeared to be justified; the copper had,
apparently , sunk into the cube to the extent of half a millimetre! I
took the measurement at leisure in my laboratory (the impres-
sion the disc made looked deeper at the time), and thus con-
firmed M. Roux’s claim that he could, apparently, externalise
some sort of heat, energy, or vitality. M. Roux kindly pre-
sented me with the disc (which I cut in halves with a hack saw
when I returned to London: it was all copper and nothing but
copper), which I have to this day, together with the block of
wax which — like myself— was so curiously impressed. I tried to
get M. Roux to London for some scientific experiments, but he
said he was too old, too poor, and hated to leave his beloved
Boulevards, where he had spent every evening for more than
thirty years. He was glad he had met me, asked me to give a
message to ‘Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’ (whom he admired) ‘at
the next stance', had another parfait amour, shook hands with

iparaffin wax melts at 114° Fahrenheit, beeswax melts at 14a0 Fahrenheit
The meltmg-pomt of the wax I purchased would be about 125° Fahrenheit

8i

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
me, raised his hat — and departed. I was left with one more
mystery to solve.

The above case reminds me of another occasion when a per-
fect stranger accosted me in a public thoroughfare. It is one of
my most curious experiences.

One morning, in the middle of August 1925, 1 was walking
down the Strand and stopped to look m an optician’s window.
Almost at the same moment a gentleman, accompanied by a
lady and a youth, asked me if I could direct him to another
optician m the Strand who was advertising a particular make of
prismatic field-glass. I gave him the desired information, and
we had a little chat about the technical details of various types
of binoculars. Suddenly he exclaimed: ‘Are you connected
with the optical trade?’ I replied that I took merely an academic
interest in the science of optics, and remarked that he would
never guess what I was particularly interested in. He said,
‘Don’t be too sure — I’m a thought-reader, and if I am not mis-
taken, you too are interested in psychic matters!’ To say I was
surprised at his reply is to put it very mildly indeed — I was
astounded.

My new acquaintance, who turned out to be a Mr. A. S.
Aldrich, junior, ofTakapau, New Zealand, was touring Europe
with his wife and son, and he told me that he felt impelled to
speak to me as I was looking in the optician’s window. He said
ke knew instantly that I was engaged in the investigation of the
occult, and could not resist the opportunity of proving it. Since
he was eight years old Mr. Aldrich has been clairvoyant, but he
is now losing the faculty. He related some very curious inci-
dents illustrating his gift — stories which were vouched for by
his wife and son. I will relate one episode which comes under
the category of what Professor Richet would call ‘accidental
cryptesthesia’, and which really is a case of premonition or
prevision.

Mr. Aldrich — who is a large landowner in New Zealand —

82 4 Grand HoteV and Other Mysteries

one day saw clairvoyandy a relative of his (a niece, I think) laid
out as if for burial, and, as is his custom, wrote in his diary a
detailed account of the vision. They had recently heard from
die girl, and there was then no suggestion that she was not in
good health. Three days after Mr. Aldrich saw the vision, they
received a wire to say that the girl had that day met with an
accident (I think she was thrown off a horse) and had died.
Really, after our extraordinary meeting in the Strand, the inci-
dent I have related does not seem so very strange. If ever Mr.
Aldrich reads this account of our meeting, I hope he will com-
municate with me.

In my capacity of Foreign Research Officer to the American
Society for Psychical Research I scoured Europe in investigat-
ing the facts, frauds and fallacies of psychical research. From
Oslo to Athens and from Lisbon to Bukarest I found many
psychic adventures — but some of the major mysteries were
encountered on British soil; one, in my own bedroom. For
want of a better title, this particular mystery is down in my
case-book as ‘the psychic child’ — but I have no evidence that it
was a child, psychic or human.

I have already emphasised the fact that I am a sound sleeper,
and seldom awake until about 6 a.m., my usual hour for rising.
It was all die more extraordinary, then, that the soft pattering
of a child’s feet round my bedroom should have awakened me
so thoroughly.

I live in a quiet Sussex village, and before the mighty grid
spun its metallic web across the county, I habitually kept a
powerful electric lantern by the side of my bed. One evening I
retired to rest after a strenuous day and feeling as if I could
sleep die clock round. Actually, I awoke in a very few hours.
I did not merely ‘wake up’: something happened that instan-
taneously roused me to the full waking state. I was as wide
owaU'‘ as if someone h«d thrown me out of bed.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 83

With the knowledge that I was wide awake came the dis-
covery that somebody or something was in my bedroom, the
door of which was, of course, closed. I could hear the soft
patter of naked feet round my room as if a little child were
running round the bed. Sometimes the pattering sounds came
from under the bed, proving that whatever the intruder was, it
was not of a great height.

My dressing-room leads out of my bedroom and the win-
dow of the former apartment is always open a few inches at
night, even in the winter. The only entrance to the dressing-
room is through my bedroom. As I lay in bed I considered
what animal could possibly have climbed mto my room, nearly
forty feet from the ground. I knew that my dog was fas t asleep
in his bed by the kitchen fire, and I possessed no other animal.
But the sound of the pattering was not that which could be
caused by any animal with which I was acquainted, and no
animal could have climbed in my dressing-room window, the
only free entrance to my sleeping apartment.

For ten minutes I listened to the pattering round my room
and turned over m my mind every possible thing that could
produce such sounds, which, I reiterate, exactly resembled
those made by a child of three running round the room in its
bare feet. At any moment I could have told the precise position
in the room of whatever was responsible for the disturbance.
At last I decided to switch on my lantern. Choosing a moment
when the sounds appeared nearest to me, I suddenly flooded
the room with light — and the pattering stopped instantane-
ously. I jumped out of bed: it was exactly a quarter to four and
(in January) quite dark.

The first thing I did was to look under the bed: there was
nothing there. Then I examined the rest of my apartment, in-
cluding the dressing-room: I drew blank. Determined to solve
the mystery, if possible, I moved every article of furniture in
the room — and found nothing. The window of my dressing-

84 'Grand Hotel * and Other Mysteries

room -was open three and a quarter inches, my bedroom door
and windows being closed- 1 explored the house without result.
No one was about and my retriever was sound asleep in his
basket in the kitchen, the door of which was closed. I returned
to my room and, as it was by then nearly five o’clock, I
dressed instead of gomg back to bed.

In my career as an investigator there have been few mysteries
for which I could not find some sort of solution — but I must
admit that the ‘baby feet’ in my bedroom puzzle me to this day.
If it is possible for spirits to return to this earth, and demon-
strate exactly as humans, then my ‘psychic child’ is capable of
this explanation.

VI. The Talking Mongoose

I have been asked to do some queer things during my thirty
years’ investigation of the alleged supernormal. For example,
when lecturing in Paris, I was invited to take up my perch on
top of the Eiffel Tower and investigate a ‘haunted’ kiosk,
where ivories, cheap jewellery, and similar souvenirs ‘simply
vanished into thin air’, and it was thought that the thief must
be a psychic one. Again, a poor woman came to see me one day
and stated that for three consecutive nights she had dreamt that
a near relative, recently buried, was not dead, but m a trance.
Could I procure for her an exhumation order and make some
tests? Then there was the man who had secured a quantity of
peyott1 (a plant from which an hallucinating drug is made) and
suggested that, if I consumed enough of it, I could project my
astral’ and record my experience. Curious as these requests may
appear, they are commonplace compared with one I received in
the winter of 1932 from a lady in the Isle of Man. My corre-
spondent informed me that a farmer friend of hers, a Mr.
James T. Irving, had discovered in his house an animal which,
after a little coaxing, had developed the power of speech, and
was practically human, except in form. Would I care to inter-
view the little beast? I replied that further data would be desir-
able before I decided to investigate the Manx prodigy. I wrote
to the farmer.

I found Mr. Irving very helpful, and he confirmed all his
friend had told me. In a letter he described the animal as being
of a yellowish tinge, like a ferret. ‘The tail is long and bushy
and tinged with brown. In size, it is about the length of a three-
lEdmouctus William.

86 The Talking Mongoose

parts grown rat in the body, without the tail.’ The mongoose
(for that is what the creature said he was when he became on
friendly terms with his host) first became audible by making
‘animal noises’ behind die stained matchboarding with which
the rooms in Mr. Irving’s house are panelled. The noises con-
sisted of ‘barking, growling, spitting, and persistent blowing’,
which kept the family awake at night. Of course, this rather
annoyed the fanner and he took steps to rout his unwanted
guest. He used gun, trap, and poison m turn, but the knowing
creature eluded them alL

About this period Mr. Irving had a bright idea. As the
animal could make such curious noises, perhaps it could imitate
a human being. So the farmer gave imitations of the calls of
various creatures, domestic and others, and was astonished to
find them accurately reproduced. ‘In a few days’ (I am still
quoting from his original letter to me) ‘we had only to name
die particular animal or bird, and instandy, always without
error, it gave the correct call.’

Mr. Irving has a daughter Voirrey, who, at the time my
story opens, was about thirteen years old. It occurred to
Voirrey to try the animal with nursery rhymes. This test was
carried out and ‘no trouble was experienced in having them
repeated’. From that day onwards the ‘talking mongoose’ be-
came an intimate and valued member of the Irving family. The
voice is stated to be two octaves above the human voice, and
very clear and distinct.

As time went on, it was quite obvious that the ‘animal’ (who
is now entided to quotation marks) had been capable of talking,
laughing, singing, etc., from the day he took up his abode with
ftip Irvings, and that the ‘animal noises’ and mimirlnng were
intended as a humorous introductory ‘leg-puli’. It is not quite
clear whether the mongoose said his name was Gef, but that is
what the Irvings called him and he said he liked it.

From a perch high up in the rafters, or from behind a con-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 87

valient skirting-board, Gef told the farmer a good deal about
himself. He said he came from India, where ‘he had been
chased by natives’. Apparently he belongs to the well-known
Herpestes mungo family, first cousins of the ichneumons of North
Africa. Some ‘poor relations’ in Egypt are known as ‘Pharaoh’s
rats’.

When Mr. Irving and Gef became on more intimate terms,
the latter mentioned the little matter of the shooting, etc. Mr.
Irving explained that he thought Gef was just an ordinary
animal out of the fields. Of course, he apologised; then they
had a good laugh over it, and the incident closed.

A curious feature of the ‘talking mongoose’ case is that the
creature is seldom seen by Mr. Irving. Very rarely, something
dashes along a beam, or he glimpses the tip of a tail rounding a
comer, and that is about all. On the other hand, his wife and
daughter have often seen him face to face, and Voirrey has even
attempted to photograph him. Once, Gef posed on the wall for
her, but just as she was about to press the button, he darted off
and was not heard for days. Gef explained chat he is afraid of
being caught — not by the camera, but by a trap. Hence his
timidity. Sometimes Gef follows them to the nearest town
when they go marketing, but always keeps on the far side of
the hedge, though he chats gaily all the time.

Mr. Irving invited me to hear the phenomenon for myself
and kindly offered me the hospitality of his home during my
visit. But I hesitated. In the first place, I was fully occupied
with Rudi Schneider,1 whom I was then investigating in my
laboratory; secondly, the story I had heard sounded so pre-
posterous that I simply could not take it seriously. Then I
argued to myself that there might be something in it. After
all, talking animals are fairly common — in print. The pages of

1See 'An Account of Some Further Experiment} with Ruth Schneider*,
by Hairy Price, Bulktin IV of die National Laboratory ofPsyducal Retearch,
London, 1933.

88 The Talking Mongoose

A Thousand and One Nights, Aisop’s Fables, Sir J. G. Frazer’s The
Golden Bough 1 and scores of books on mythology are full of
talking beasts which are human in everything but shape. To-
day, the Australian natives believe that the wild dog has the
power of speech; and the Breton peasants credit all birds with
language, which they try to interpret. The bear in Norway is
regarded as almost a man, and the Red Indians consult the
native bear Kur-bo-roo when they are in distress, and the Iowas
converse with serpents. Even in psychical research talking
animals are not unknown. Who has not heard of the Elberfeld
horses,* Muhamed, Zanf, Hanschen and Barto? Certainly,
these equine wonders spoke with their hoofs, and not with
their mouths — but they made themselves understood just the
same. And poor blind Barto was said to be more intelligent than
many who came to gape at him! Then there was Rolf,* the
Mannheim ‘talking dog’, Black Bear,4 the BriarchfF ‘thinking
pony’, and many others. And we have all kept talking parrots. I
came to the conclusion that perhaps a talking mongoose was
not so very extraordinary, and decided to investigate. I asked a
friend. Captain X — very shrewd and not easily hoodwinked —
to make some preliminary inquiries on the spot.

X arrived at the Isle of Man on February 26, 1932, and in due
course presented me with his report. It is an extraordinary
document. On the first night he kept watch at the farm until
about 1 1.4s, and as there was nothing moving he decided to

lScc The Golden Bough a Study in Magic and Religion, by Sir James George
Frazer, London, 1911-2$ (3rd edition, revued, in 12 vols.).

•See The Unknown Guest, by Maurice Maeterlinck, London, 1914.

•See ‘Rolf of Mannheim: a Great Psychological Problem’, by Dr. William
Mackenzie, in Proceedings, American S.P.R., VoL XHL, Aug 1919.

•See: “The Bnarchff Pony’, by J. Malcolm Bird, Journal of the American

by Mantis J. Zaayer, Journal of die American S.P.R., New York, Jan. 1929.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 89

return to his hotel. He left the house accompanied by the
farmer, but just as he reached the door he heard a very shrill
voice scream out: ‘Go away! who is that man?’ Mr. Irving
gripped his arm and said, ‘That’s it!’ Then came some more
talk, but X could not understand what was said. X decided to
remain in the house, and returned to the other room, when the
voice at once ceased. He stayed for another fifteen minutes and
then returned to his hotel

The next day X was at the farm early and was greeted with
the news that Gef had been talking a lot since the previous
night, and had promised to speak to him if he sat in a certain
spot. Incidentally, Gef informed the farmer that he had taken a
sly glance at X and did not like him! So X was told that he
would have to shout out: ‘I do believe m you, Gef!’ if he
wanted to hear the mongoose! X did this and patiently waited
all day for the shrill voice. While they were having tea, Gef
threw a packing-case needle into the room and it hit the tea-
pot. X was told that Gef was always throwing things about.

At 7.45 there was a shrill scream from above-stairs, and X
could hear Gef talking to Mrs. Irving and Voirrey. X shouted
up the stairs: ‘Won’t you come down? I believe in you!' Gef
replied, ‘No, I don’t mean to stay long, as I don’t like you!’ As
the mongoose was still talking, X quietly approached the stain
and began to creep up to the bedroom. But, unfortunately, the
top stair had a loose tread which X stepped on — and slithered
down the staircase, making a terrible noise! Gef shrieked out:
‘He is coming!’ — and vanished. Nothing more happened, and
X returned to London.

The most extraordinary part of this amazing case is that Mr.
Irving has kept a sort of diary — in the form of letters — of Gef ’s
doings, and it rivals the Arabian Nights in the fantastic improba-
bilities which the record contains. Before me are two hundred
quarto typed sheets, and every page describes a miracle: I will
mention some of the most interesting incidents.

po The Talking Mongoose

In June 1932 Gef told the farmer that he had been chased in
India by natives, and frequently shot at. In the same month
Gef became tamer and allowed the farmer’s wife and daughter
to stroke him and feel his teeth— while he was on a beam.
They fed him on bacon, sausages, bananas, chocolate, etc., but
he would not touch milk and water. Then he began lolling
rabbits for the family. He strangled them and thoughtfully left
them outside in a convenient position, with their legs in the
air. During the next year or so, he slaughtered scores of them —
and the faunal equilibrium of the district was in danger of being
upset ! Then he commenced speaking a language supposed to be
Russian. Ne pani amato aporusko was one sentence which was
recorded phonetically. In August he sang two verses of a
Spanish song, and recited four lines of a Welsh poem. Then he
spoke Arabic, and revealed the feet that he could understand
the deaf and dumb alphabet.

In 1934. Gef began making little trips to the nearest town and
on his return told the farmer what certain people had been
doing. This was proved to be correct. Then he became clair-
voyant and told the farmer what was happening ten miles
away— without leaving the farm. Sometimes he was seen out of
doors. Questioned as to whether he was a ‘spirit’, Gef said: ‘I
am an earth-bound spirit.’

In June 1934 the farmer asked Gef if X could visit him again.
‘Yes,’ was the reply, ‘but not Price. He’s got his doubting cap
on!’ In July he began doing little tricks for the farmer’s friends.
A person would go outside in the porch and place some
pennies on a stone. Gef, with his eye to a squint-hole, would
then say whether they were heads or tails. Sometimes he was
right.

In October 1934 another reference was made to me. Gef said
he liked X, ‘but not Harry Price. He’s the man who puts the
kybosh on the spirits !’ In December 193 1 he became so violent
in his speech and in his threats towards Voirrey that the girl’s

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 91

bed was moved into her parents’ room. He became friendly
again, and in May 1932 Voirrey returned to her own room.

In March 1935 X received some fur and hairs which Gefhad
kindly plucked from his back and tail. Having removed the
hair, Gef deposited it in an ornament on the mantelpiece, and
told the farmer where to find it. As the hair was sent for identi-
fication purposes, I forwarded it to Professor Julian Huxley,
who handed it to Mr. F. Martin Duncan, F.Z.S., the authority
on hair and fur. Mr. Duncan went to much trouble in an
attempt to identify the hair. In a letter to me, he says:

‘I have carefully examined them microscopically and com-
pared them with hairs of known origin. As a result I can very
definitely state that the specimen hairs never grew upon a mon-
goose, nor are they those of a rat, rabbit, hare, squirrel, or other
rodent; or from a sheep, goat or cow. I am inclined to dunk
that these hairs have probably been taken from a longish-haired
dog or dogs.’

Mr. Duncan based his opinion upon a comparison of the
hairs of various animals, including a wolf and of a collie dog.
He found ‘that both these, in the shape and pattern of the
cuticular scales, and of the medulla, had a marked resemblance
to the cuticular scales, and medulla of your specimens, suffi-
ciently dose to make me dunk that very probably yours are of
canine origin.’ Mr. Duncan also considered that they had been
cut from the animal, as he ‘could not detect a smgle hair show-
ing a root-bulb’. Later, he kindly made some photomicro-
graphs of Gef’s hairs and, for comparison, some taken from a
golden cocker spaniel and a red setter.

I could fill many pages of these Confessions with extracts from
Mr. Irving's record, but what I have written is some indication
of the amazing things Gef is alleged to have said and done. As
he became acquainted with the family, he developed a wit
which at times was a bit rude. He called Mr. Irving ‘Jim’ and
nick-named him ‘Pots’. When Gef was hungry, he would say,

92 The Talking Mongoose

‘Well, Jim, what about some grubbo?’ and his nonsense would
sometimes keep the family awake at night. As his manifesta-
tions became so frequent, my friend X decided to pay another
visit to the island. He arrived there on May 20, 1935. He heard
Gef scream and say, ‘Coo-ee ! coo-ee !’ in the dark, on the way
to his hotel. Gef also did the coin trick for him. There were
several other puzzling incidents, which X related to me on his
return; so puzzling, in feet, that I decided I would see Gef
myself.

Mr. Irving wrote that he would be delighted to see me and
would make all arrangements for my visit. Unfortunately, on
receipt of the letter announcing my decision, Gef suddenly dis-
appeared. I waited for a week or so, but the mongoose was still
missing. It was not an unusual occurrence for Gef to slip away
for a few days, but an absence of two weeks was unusual. At the
end of a month he was still missing, but I decided not to alter
my plans and arranged to travel to the Isle of Man on Tuesday,
July 30, 1935. As I wanted a witness m case Gef should put in an
appearance, I asked Mr. R. S. Lambert, the editor of The
Listener , if he would accompany me. He kindly consented.

We arrived at Douglas at 6.45 p.m. and were met by Mr.
Irving with a car. After a long drive into the interior, we
reached a famous beauty spot, where we found a comfortable
inn and a welcome meal. During dinner Mr. Irving related the
complete story of the talking mongoose, which, alas! was still
missing. After our repast we decided to visit the haunt of Gef.
This was easier said than done, as Mr. Irving lives in an isolated
farmstead seven hundred and twenty-five feet above sea-level,
on the summit of what is almost a mountain. There is no proper
road to the house, but after an hour’s stiff climb up a precipitous
and slippery mule track, we reached the desolate upland where
Mr. Irving lives. It was almost dark, and had not Mr. Irving
piloted us die entire distance, we should have been hopelessly
lost. As we approached the house Mr. Lambert and I were

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 93

startled by an animal suddenly bounding into our midst: it was
‘Mona’, die Irvings’ three-year-old collie sheepdog, who had
heard his master’s voice.

We at last reached the house and were introduced to Mrs.
Irving and Voirrey — now a good-looking girl of seventeen —
whom we found very intelligent, shy, and rather quiet. Mrs.
Irving is a charming and dignified lady who gave us a friendly
welcome and asked us to make ourselves at home. The Irvings
do not belong to the farmer class. Mr. Irving was a successful
Liverpool business man who, at about the beginning of the
War, bought the lonely farmstead, hoping to make a living by
sheep-breeding, etc.

As we sat round the paraffin lamp in the small, dark-panelled
living-room, we heard the Gef story all over again. Mr. Lam-
bert and I plied the Irvings with innumerable questions con-
cerning their prodigy, and received answers which invariably
tallied with what Mr. Irving had recorded in his letters. The
family was heartbroken at Gef’s continued absence. Mrs.
Irving was convinced that the mongoose was still about the
house, probably listening to every word we were saying. She
addressed a few words to him m the hope that her appeal
would touch a sympathetic chord somewhere. There was no
response. Then I addressed a little speech to the four walls of
the room, hoping Gef would hear me. I pointed out that we
had come a long, long way on his account and that we were
entitled to some manifestation: a few words, a little laugh, a
scream, a squeak, or just a simple scratch behind the panelling.
I even invited him to throw something at me. But all to no
purpose: Gef was definitely not in a talking mood. Mrs. Irving
said she sail thought he was about somewhere. Although he
had not been heard for a month, about a fortnight previous to
our visit a saucepan of water mysteriously fell off the range in
the living-room and swamped Irving’s shoes. No one was in the
room, and it was thought that Gef was responsible. We heard a

94 The Talking Mongoose

good deal of GeTs doings: how he travels to the nearest town
on the back axles of motor-cars and buses; how he gets to know
the names of many of the drivers, and how he picks up bits of
scandal which he hears in the town. We also learnt GeT s age:
he was eighty-three on June 7, 1935- All these details of GeT s
life — and many more — we heard as we sat round the oil lamp
waiting for him to manifest. Then midnight struck and we
decided to return to the village. By the light of two electric
torches we groped and stumbled our way down the mountain
path, again accompanied by Mr. Irving, and finally reached our
inn.

Neither Mr. Lambert nor I slept very well. The mongoose
problem obsessed our minds and made sleep difficult. Was the
whole affair a fraud from A to Z? Was it a plot (lasting four
years) to fool the countryside? If so, what was the motive?
Were the Irvings engaged in a clever and picturesque conspir-
acy? Was there any sort of animal at all? Was there any real
evidence whatsoever that Gef had been heard? These and
similar questions raced through my brain. If a plot, then the
Irvings were consummate actors. There was no apparent mo-
tive, and no financial gain. In the early days it was said that
Voirrey was a ‘natural ventriloquist’ — whatever that is — and
responsible for the Gef impersonation. But the Irvings state
that Gef has been heard while Voirrey was under observation;
in fact, the three members of the Irving family have, in turn,
been absent from home while Gef was said to manifest. Irving
himself is an amiable and very intelligent business man of
about sixty years of age. Could any intelligent person remain in
a house for four years without becoming aware of the fart that
a hoax was being played on him and the public by another
member of his household? I fell into a fitful sleep before I had
answered one of these questions satisfactorily.

I awoke just before eight o’clock. I say ‘awoke’, but actually
I was in that hypnopompic state between sleeping and waking,

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 95

when a thin, shrill voice (which appeared to come from the end
of the bed) said: ‘Hullo! hullo! come along! come along!’ and
some chattering which I could not interpret. With thoughts of
Gef still uppermost in my mind, the ‘voice’ startled me into
complete consciousness. But, alas! it was only mine host’s
parrot whose matutinal mutterings had Boated in through my
open window from the kitchen across the road.

After a tour of the Island and a good lunch, Mr. Lambert and
I again climbed the mountain in search of Gef. We reached the
Irvings’ home just before four o’clock and were able to take
stock of the place by sunlight. The farmstead appeared even
more lonely than it did by night. For mile after mile there was
nothing to be seen except the undulating hills covered with
short turf, scrubby gorse, and sod hedges. There were no trees
and few birds — hardly a living thing1 except an occasional
hawk winging its solitary flight across the mountain. But the
views were superb. To the west was a glorious vista of moun-
tain, glen and sea, bathed m sunlight which made St. Patrick’s
Channel look like a sheet of glass. Still farther west, the Moun-
tains of Moume were silhouetted against an azure sky. A litde
above Irving’s place is a prominence from which, without
leaving the spot, can be seen England, Ireland, Scotland and
Wales. By daylight we saw that the house was a small two-
storey affair, made of Manx slate slabs cemented together. The
outside walls were faced with cement, which gave it a grey
colour. A projecting porch, with a small, deep window, made
the place seem larger. Inside the house the walls are panelled,
with a space of about three inches between walls and wood-
work. The ground floor consists of a small porch, a parlour, the
principal living-room, and a pantry-kitchen. Upper floor con-
sists of two bedrooms. There is panelling everywhere.

The Irvings were kindness personified, and did everything

1There are no snakes, toads, badgers, moles, squirrels, voles or foxes m the
Isle of Man.

S>6 The Talking Mongoose

for us — except produce Gef! However, Mr. Irving personally
conducted us over the house and pointed out GeT s haunts. We
saw numerous peep-holes; cracks through which Gef threw
things at ‘doubting’ visitors; squint-holes through which the
mongoose watches the Irvings and interrupts the conversation
with facetious and sometimes rude remarks. We saw the runs
behind the panelling by means of which Gef can skip, unseen,
from one room to another, upstairs or down. In Voirrey’s room
we were shown ‘GeT s sanctum’, really a boxed partition, on
top of which Gef dances to the gramophone and bounces his
favourite ball. The fret that every room is panelled makes the
whole house one great speaking-tube, with walls like sounding-
boards. By speaking mto one of the many apertures in the
panels, it should be possible to convey the voice to various
parts of the house. Apparendy, Gef does this.

We spent the evening with the Irvings; we took photographs
and played with Mona, and walked round the outbuildings and
the nearby fields, where we were shown the spots where Gef
deposits the rabbits which he kills for his hosts — as some sort of
recompense for his board and lodging ! Speaking of Mona, it is
curious that Mr. Martin Duncan thought that Gefs hairs had
come from a collie dog. Is it possible that Gef surreptitiously
clipped the hairs from various parts of Mona’s anatomy, and
foisted them on to the Irvings as specimens of his own hirsute
covering?

About midnight we decided that Gef had no intention of
coining into the open, and that we had better go home. We
had spent many pleasant hours under the hospitable roof of the
Irving farmstead, but we could not determine whether, in our
rSle of investigators, we had taken part in a farce or a tragedy.
No dramatist could have invented a more amazing plot or a
mise en sebte better suited to the characters of the play which is
being enacted on the windswept uplands of the Isle of Man.
We have been told that we discovered nothing during our

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 97

quest of die ‘talking mongoose’. But that is not true: we dis-
covered why witches were hanged in the seventeenth century,
and why Lord Chief Justice Hale publicly avowed his belief in
broomsticks as a reasonable and usual means of locomotion.

Gef returned to the form on the same evening as we left it
—perhaps we passed him on our way down the mountain! He
told Mr. Irving that, although he had ‘had a few days' holiday’,
he was present at the house during our visit, and heard all we
said. He gave various excuses for not showing himself, and one
of them was that Mr. Lambert was a ‘doubter’. He admitted
knocking over the saucepan of water in the living-room. After
our return home this clever mongoose made impressions of his
paws and teeth in plasticine, and Mr. Irving sent them to me.
He (Gef) also dictated to the farmer a complete description of
himself, and from these particulars a drawing was made and
published.1 Our adventures created extraordinary interest in
London and the B.B.C. asked me to broadcast the story* As
these Confessions go to press, Gef is still exchanging wisecracks
with Irvmg; still dancing to the gramophone on top of his
‘sanctum’; soil screwing rabbits’ necks for the Irving table; and,
I am afraid, still impressing a number of rather credulous
people.

*For a complete, illustrated account of this extraordinary affair, see The
Haunting of Cashen's Gap: a Modem 'Miracle* Investigated, by Harry Pnce
and R. S. Lambert, Methuen, 1936.

‘Broadcast from the North Regional Station, Saturday, October 12, 1935.

VII. Some Curious Claims to Mediumship

Anyone can be a ‘medium’; whereas, if you keep a dog, run
ill fried-fish stall, or drive a motor-car, you must have a
license. But you can practise ‘mediumship’ with impunity.
The law does not ‘inspect’ you; you are not required to fill up
forms or sign on dotted lines, or even include the amount of
your ‘spoils’ in your Income Tax return— because professional
mediumship is illegal. You can gaze into a crystal, call up
‘spirits’, produce voices from a tm trumpet, go into a trance,
‘psychometrise’, materialise ‘ectoplasm’, see visions, take spirit
photographs, or read the stars — and you are absolutely immune
from every kind of tax or official supervision. The reason for
this is that the law does not recognise such a thing as medium-
ship. The psychic not only has no legal status, but his profession
is actually illegal under the old laws, which have never been
repealed. Legally, he is a ‘rogue and a vagabond’ and is some-
times prosecuted as such.

Though I have stated that a medium is immune from official
supervision, he can very easily become entangled in the meshes
of the law. He definitely breaks the law if, for a consideration,
he predicts the future: he is prosecuted under the Witchcraft and
Vagrancy Acts1 and can be fined or imprisoned. One fre-
quently reads in the Press of such prosecutions, and usually the
offenders are convicted either for pretending to tell fortunes or
for obtaining money under false pretences. The difference be-
tween a certain type of medium and a ‘fortune-teller’ is so
subtle that the burly policeman and his wife (disguised as
‘sitters’), when they visit the psychic’s parlour, can hardly be
^Vagrancy Act, j Geo. IV. c. 83, and Witchcraft Act, 9 Geo. D. c. j.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 99

expected to recognise it. The result is a fine of forty shillings, or
seven days. It is sad to think that these modem representatives
of Delphi and Dodona should have sunk to the level of a
vagrancy act!

Just as the medium has no standing in law, so he has no status
among his brethren. He receives no training, and no degrees.
There are no ‘tests’ for a medium except the tests of a labora-
tory properly equipped for scientific observation. And this
usually applies only to a physical medium. If you go to a clair-
voyante — or other mental medium— and she tells you that over
your left shoulder she sees the spirit of your aunt Emma, in a
blue dress with pink spots, you cannot contradict her! True,
you may never have had an aunt Emma, but that does not
matter. You pay your guinea all the same and go home won-
dering.

I have made these few introductory remarks in order to em-
phasise how difficult it is for an investigator to choose his
material. As, apparently, mediums — like poets — are bom and
not made, one cannot determine the genuineness or otherwise
of a psychic without the expenditure of a great amount of rime,
money and energy. A man has only to advertise himself as a
medium in the spiritualist Press, and the credulous flock to him.
As these people seldom admit that there is such a thing as a
‘fraudulent medium’, of course the fakers prosper. Even Sir
Ohver Lodge, m the witness-box during the Meurig Morris
action against the Daily Mail, said (I am quoting from The
Times report1): ‘I hear about fraudulent mediums, but I have
not come across them.’ If only I could boast of Sir Oliver’s
experience!

If I were to examine all the people who come to me and
state they possess abnormal powers, I should want at least five
stance-rooms instead of one, and every moment of my time
would be occupied in testing these pseudo-psychics. In many
1See The Times for April 13, 193a.

ioo Some Curious Claims to Mediumship

cases, I find the trouble is a mental one and invariably recom-
mend the applicant to seek medical advice. Some of these cases
are very pathetic. A few of my callers produce written ‘evi-
dence’ that they are psychic and these I usually test — generally
with negative results. Then there is the ‘spellbinder’ type of
showman who hopes to extract a few guineas from us in return
for some stale ‘psychic’ tricks that can be found m any shilling
conjuring book. These performers do not usually press their
claims when I inform them that I possess the world’s largest
collection of works on trickery and deceptive methods. Some-
times a friend recommends an alleged medium to us and we
devote much time and trouble in investigating the case.

I will now relate my adventures with some of the alleged
mediums who claimed extraordinary powers which, however,
slumped badly under scientific examination.

A year or so ago I received many Press cuttings relating to a
certain Joanny Gaillard, a shoe dealer, of Lyons. This man
claimed that he possessed the amazing faculty of being able to
sterilise or petrify organic substances by merely passing his hand
over them. He said he could mummify or magnetise such objects
as fruit or meat. He took two lamb chops, placed them on
separate plates, and one of them he ‘magnetised’ once or twice
per day. After several days the chop that he had been thus
treating was dry and hard while the other was beginning to
decompose. Another experiment was made with a plucked
pigeon, with similar results. These are the stories we heard.
Gaillard also used to ‘heal’, and it was claimed that his ‘power’ or
‘fluid’ had a germicidal or sterilising effect, even to the extent
of arresting or dispersing malignant growths. People flocked to
him to be cured, and he did so well that, I was informed, he sold
his boot and shoe business.

Of course I was deeply interested and wrote to Gaillard ask-
ing that his powers should be tested scientifically at the Na-
tional Laboratory of Psychical Research. I offered him £50 for

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter ioi

a short scries of tests. He accepted, but later wrote and asked for
,£loo. This procedure was so unsatisfactory that I refused to
increase my offer and awaited developments.

In the meantime, our Paris correspondent and council mem-
ber, M. Ren6 Sudre, had also taken up the case. He and others
formed themselves into a commission to test Gaillard. The
commission consisted of M. Sudre, Professor Dr. Victor
Pauchet of the Amiens Medical School, Dr. Dausset, the radio-
logical head of the principal Paris hospital, Dr. Kohn-Abrest,
the head of the toxicological service of the city of Paris, and
other experts. For the purposes of the test the following objects
were purchased: two tench, two mutton chops, two pieces of
veal liver, and two unplucked larks.

The first article of each pair was treated by Gaillard, and the
second served as a control or check. Every morning and after-
noon, for eight days, Gaillard held two of the objects in his
hands, and two in the crook of the elbows between forearm
and upper arm. He held them for an hour at a time. At the end
of eight days it was found that the objects that Gaillard had
‘sterilised’ were in the same stage of putrefaction as those that
had been sealed up in a safe. The test had not demonstrated that
Gaillard possessed any power whatsoever.1

Another very interesting aspirant to psychic honours was
Madame Eugdrne Picquart, the French ‘transfiguration me-
dium’. I was introduced to Madame Picquart m Paris in
September 1927 during the Third International Congress for
Psychical Research,* which I attended as Director of the Na-
tional Laboratory of Psychical Research. The lady, a widow
aged sixty, claimed that in the trance state, and in full light, she

1See Two Adventures in Metapsychics and Occultism’, by Ren£ Sudre,
in Psychk Research, Journal of the American S.P.R., VoL XXm, No. 3,
New York, March 1929.

*See Le Cornpte Rendu Cffidel du Troisibne Congrh International de Recher-
ches Psychiques h Paris Septembre-Octobre 1927, Pans, 1928.

102 Some Curious Claims to Mediumship

could assume the personalities of various deceased persons, such
as a French general, Coquelin (the actor), Sarah Bernhardt, a
young child, an ancient Egyptian, etc. It was alleged that her
face underwent rapid changes, with the result that her features
expressed the characteristics of those by whom she is said to be
‘controlled’.

I had a stance with Madame Picquart at a friend’s flat in
Paris, and I witnessed a most extraordinary performance. She
appeared to go into a sort of self-induced cataleptic trance, and
immediately after both her face and manner underwent several
curious changes. She danced and rolled head over heels; she was
a soldier, sailor and parson in turn.

In a quarter of an hour her expression and entire appearance
seemed to assume sail another personality, though I could not
identify it. Then her face became drawn and wrinkled. Then
her top lip became white, and she assumed a military demean-
our: I was told it was a reincarnation of a famous French gen-
eral. I was interested in the performance from a psychological
point of view, but was doubtful if there was anything psychic
about it. But I had heard such good accounts of her that, a few
months later, I invited Madame Picquart to London, where she
arrived in July 1928. She arranged to give us six stances.

Madame Picquart brought with her a special stance suit
which consisted of thick black woollen tights, over which she
placed a flowing black gown. She was always attired m this
garb at the experiments held in my laboratory.

At the first stance she stood before us, in full light, with a
strained look and vacant expression. Then her hand flew to her
hair, which she tugged this way and that until it was entirely
disarranged: we were told she was entranced. From a friend she
took a sheet of stiff white paper, a pair of scissors and some
pim. Out of the paper she cut a man’s shirt front and placed it
on her chest. Then she took a piece of black cloth, which she
draped over her to look like a coat, complete with lapels. In

As ‘Coquelm’

As an old French judge

As Mcphistophelcs As an Egyptian mummy

Impersonations by Madame Eugenic Picquart, the ‘transfiguration
medium’.

103

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
quick succession she cut out a pair of paper ‘gloves’, some
paper cuffs, and picked up a white walking-stick which she had
brought with her. Then she assumed a dramatic pose and her
friend announced that the medium was being ‘controlled’ by
Coquelin, the actor.

It was a clever performance and much ingenuity was shown
in turning to account the bits and pieces with which she decked
herself out to look like a man. Also, it was emphasised, she did
the ‘dressing up’ without the aid of a mirror. But die ‘medium’
was no more psychic than the paper I am writing on. If the
trance was genuine (which I doubt), the ‘transfiguration’ into
‘Coquelin’ was accomplished entirely by the accessories she
employed, plus a little acting.

The next impersonation was that of an Egyptian mummy,
but somehow I was not so impressed with this character as I was
the previous year when I saw her assume the same pose in
Paris. We witnessed the ‘growing’ of the moustache (merely a
faint whitening of the skin on the upper lip) and the face be-
coming drawn. But it required a good deal of imagination to
regard the ‘mummy’ as anything but Madame Picquart playing
apart.

At a further experiment (I photographed most of the ‘im-
personations’), the ‘medium’ assumed the part of a little boy and
hopped and skipped about over the chairs — not bad going for a
woman of sixty! Then she became an old French judge, an
effect due entirely to the fact that she blackened her upper lip
with burnt cork and pinned odds and ends of paper about her
person in order to produce the desired impersonation. This was
ingenious and very amusing: but psychic! ... I informed
Madame Picquart that it was useless to continue the experi-
ments as we were not convinced that the abnormal played any
part in her performances. She then left for Paris in the guise of
her real personality — that of a rather disappointed and very
typical French widow.

104 Some Curious Claims to Mediumship

Not all the people who come to us are obsessed with the idea
that they are psychic: some think they are possessed of devils;
some imagine they are being bewitched or ‘overlooked* by
persons who wish to do them harm; others have extraordinary
theories as to die nature of spirits and leave us tracts on the sub-
ject; a few, under the impression that we are a sort of clinic,
come to us to be healed of various disorders — mosdy imagi-
nary. And the mechanically-minded bring us machines (such
as Melton’s ‘psychic telephone*1) which, they maintain, will
enable us to get in touch with the spirit world by a short cut and
without the aid of a medium.

I must confess that the majority of these people merely bore
me, and the mentally-ailing I am sorry for. But it is the char-
latans who are amusing : the pseudo-mediums, the fakers, those
who have acquired ‘mediumship’ by means of a correspond-
ence course (hoping to make something out of it) and — last but
not least — those who think we are a philanthropic institution
and come hopmg to extract money from us.

One ‘spellbinder* who thought he could line his pockets at
the expense of our credulity I call ‘The Man from Oshkosh*. It
happened like this. One day my secretary announced that the

Rev. George B , from Oshkosh, Wis., was in the office and

would like to see me. It is not often that foreign members of the
cloth find their way to my laboratory; but I was certain that
anyone from Oshkosh, Wis., must be m teres ting, so I told her
I would see him. When the visitor arrived in my sanctum, I
nearly fell off my chair. I had expected some sort of an ortho-
dox parson; the thing that arrived might have stepped dean out
of a gangster drama from the ‘talkies’. It was a Chicago rack-
eteer in excelsis. When I had recovered my breath, and with
my finger on the bell push, I asked him what he wanted. He
informed me that he was the pastor of a small spiritualist church

xSee A Psychk Telephone, by Frederick Reginald Melton (i.e. Melin),
Nottingham, 1921.

Confusions of a Ghost-Hunter 105

in Oshkosh, Wis., and that he was travelling Europe in search
of material for a lecture tour. Could he have some photographs
or lantern slides of my laboratory? I said he could not, and did
he want anything else? It was then that he informed me that he
was also the leading medium of Oshkosh, Wis., and that his
real reason for inflicting himself upon me was that he wanted a
job. He said he was very hard up, and nearly ‘all in’. ‘Another
week, doc., and I’m sunk!' Could I help him? I said I was
afraid I could not. He had too much local colour, not to men-
tion a pronounced atmosphere. Then he offered to teach me
crap shooting: I resisted the temptation and remarked that it did
not sound respectable. Finally, he offered to demonstrate his
mediumistic powers before me. I consented.

He pulled out his pocket book, tore a page from it, and
handed it to me. He asked me to tear it into six pieces of equal
size. Having done this, I was requested to write the names of
five living friends, and one dead one, on the shps. I was told to
turn my back while I wrote the names and folded the papers.
This I id. The ‘reverend’ from Oshkosh, Wis., then asked me
to hold the ‘dead’ billet in my hand, he placing his hand over
mine ‘in order to make contact with the cerebral vibrations
emanating from the paper’, and so that he could ‘tune in his
personality’ to that of the aforesaid emanations. I looked duly
impressed. After the emanations had done their worst, I was
asked to place all the billets in a hat and shake them up. I
obeyed. I was then asked to light a Bunsen burner and slowly
consume each billet in the flame. At the fourth burning the
medium shouted: ‘Blow it out!’ I did this (not literally),
opened the partly-destroyed paper, and admitted that on it was
the name of the person (purely fictitious) alleged to be dead. I
was impressed.

I was convinced of several things, amongst them being the
following: (a) die medium did not see the names I wrote, and,
had he done so, it would not have helped him; (6) he did not

io6 Some Curious Claims to Mediumship

handle the papers; (c) when the papers were mixed it was quite
impossible to recognise any particular one; (d) that the fact
of his using his own paper did not affect the result. I remarked
that the trick (a pained expression clouded his countenance), I
meant experiment, was a good one and asked him to do it again.

The second time I used my own paper and sent him out into
the passage while I wrote upon, and folded, the billets. Then I
called him in; he ‘contacted* as previously — with exactly the
same result.

I persuaded him to do it a third time and then I noticed that
when ‘making contact’ he held my hand (containing the ‘dead’
billet) in a peculiar manner; in fact, he inserted the forefinger of
his right hand into my fist, and must have actually touched the
billet. So after the ‘contacting’ business I took the billet out of
the room and, with the aid of a powerful objective, minutely
scrutinised the paper. It appeared quite innocent of any markings.

But what I had seen started a certain tram of thought. When
I returned to the room, mixed the billets in the hat, and com-
menced burning them, my powers of observation were concen-
trated on one thing — the colour of the flame made by the burn-
ing billets. The burning of the second billet aroused my suspi-
cions—was I mistaken, or did the flame really appear to be of a
slightly greenish tinge? At this moment the medium shouted
the usual ‘Blow it out!’ but I insisted upon burning it to the (I
was now convinced) green and bitter end. ‘Wonderful, isn’t
it?’ said the man from Oshkosh, Wis. ‘It is,’ I replied, ‘but not
very. WThat do you carry it in— a sponge?’

At last he owned up. As I concluded, the faint tinge in the
‘dead’ billets was caused by sulphate of copper — better known
as ‘bluestone’. What happened was that in his pocket was a
small sponge saturated with a weak solution of sulphate of cop-
per and distilled water; it makes a pale blue liquid absolutely in-
visible, when dry, on a piece of unsized paper. Just previously to
‘contacting* he touched the sponge with the tip of his finger.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 107

which he cleverly inserted in my fist while holding it, and
touched the billet. The mark was absolutely invisible, but there
was enough of the metallic copper transferred to the paper to
give the flame a very slight green tinge.

‘Well, doc., is it worth fifty bucks to you?’ It was not, but
I gave him something that helped to shorten — slightly — the
road between Kensington, South, and Oshkosh, Wis.

Another miracle-monger who called upon me was a Mr.
E. M. Sturgess, and he declared that he could demonstrate die
power of mind over matter by means of instruments, and in-
vited me to test him. I consented. He duly arrived on the day
appointed for the test, and I invited a number of scientists (in-
cluding Professor Dr. Hans Driesch, the Leipzig philosopher,
who happened to be in London) to witness the ‘miracle’.

The man who possessed a mind that could dominate matter
brought to my laboratory several pieces of apparatus, the chief
of which was a disc of wood, eighteen inches in diameter,
around the periphery of which were pasted about twenty
ordinary playing-cards. The disc was mounted vertically, and
in the centre was a spindle, attached to which was a long needle
or pointer which moved freely on its pivot. The pointer could
be spun round and, being very evenly balanced, it would stop
at a card at random. The whole affair was like a large clock
face, with playing-cards instead of figures.

The claim made was that the ‘medium’, by merely thinking of
a certain card, could, without touching the apparatus in any
way, mentally compel or ‘will’ the pointer to travel slowly
round the dial and stop at the selected suit. Or an observer could
suggest a card, and the medium would mentally cause the
pointer to travel to the one selected. I am convinced that Mr.
Sturgess genuinely thought he had some sort of abnormal
power.

After having carefully examined and tested die markinc

108 Some Curious Claims to Mediumship
(which was really very simply constructed), I set it up in the
centre of a heavy teak laboratory table around which sat the
scientific observers, one of whom had chosen the King of
Hearts. I told the medium to commence ‘willing’.

The medium then placed one hand on the table. He told us
all to think hard of the Ring of Hearts. We thought accord-
ingly. With all eyes directed on the instrument we saw the
pointer very slowly travel round the dial. It stopped at the King
of Hearts. Then we chose another card, and again the needle
gradually swung round and came to rest at the selected spot.
By the time we had witnessed the second successful experi-
ment, I had formulated a theory as to how the ‘miracle’ was
worked. Why did the medium persist m keepmg his hand on
die edge of the table?

I suggested that we should be more impressed if the medium
stood absolutely clear of the table without touching it in any
way. ‘That is impossible,’ he said, ‘because some of my animal
magnetism has to travel through the table, and so mto the
machine. I must make contact.’ I pointed out to him that if he
stood quite clear of the table his ‘magnetism’ could soil flow
from him into his machine via his boots, the floor and the
table-legs. He would not admit my point.

In order to demonstrate to the observers that the theory I
had formed was correct, I proposed an experiment of my own.
I procured a bowl of mercury and placed it on the table near the
machine, and between it and the man who exuded animal
magnetism. I then asked him to repeat the experiment with the
cards. This he did, still keeping his hand on the edge of the
table. But the secret was out! Over the surface of the quick-
silver ran a succession of tiny ripples — the outward and visible
sign that the table-top was vibrating rapidly, though invisibly.
Without waiting for the medium to pick out the card we had
chosen, I asked him to stand back and, taking his place, and
with my fret planted firmly on the ground, I, too, placed my

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 109

hand on the table and had no difficulty in making die pointer
travel — and stop — wherever I ‘willed’.

The explanation of this ‘miracle’ is simple and any reader can
try it. The needle was so delicately balanced that the slightest
vibradon would set it in motion — which was conveyed to it,
via the table-top, by imperceptible movements of the man’s
hand pressed firmly on the table edge. By pressing hard, and
with muscles taut, the slightest motion of die hand was con-
veyed to the machine in the centre of the table.

Our friend was surprised to find that I, too, was a ‘medium’,
but he took it all in good part. I later constructed a machine on
the same principle which was much more impressive. This had
a very delicately-hung pendulum, pivoted on diamond mount-
ings. A swing of even i/250th part of an inch would close an
electrical circuit which, through an electro-magnet and suit-
able gearing, would, with each impulse, send the pointer round
one degree. At a distance of three feet the machine would func-
tion with the hand held fairly lighdy on the edge of the table. I
astonished some of my friends with this machine — until I told
them the secret.

One of the most brazen spellbinders who have ever entered
my office was a man who called himself ‘Sandy Macpherson’:
he was a Jew from Hounds ditch. He came to see me because, he
said, he had some wonderful apparatus by means of which he
could make himself invisible at will. I call him the ‘Invisible
Man’.

He said he wanted a large fee for a test, as it meant a van-load
of ‘properties’ and a great deal of trouble to arrange his ‘set-
up'. We compromised by my agreeing to settle the carter’s
bill

The day— and a small pantechnicon — duly arrived for the
test, and as the men carried in his impedimenta, I wondered if
‘Sandy* had ever kept a draper’s shop, as his sole apparatus con-

no Some Curious Claims to Mediumship
sisted of about a dozen tall pier glasses or mirrors such as are
used in die dressmaking stores where ladies foregather in such
large numbers.

Sandy shut himself up in my seance-room for half an hour
and then called me in and said he was ready for the test. He
now commenced 'hedging'; he said he could not make himself
invisible, but could make his reflection invisible. On the prin-
ciple of “half a loaf\ etc., I had to be content with the prospect
of witnessing only a semi-miracle.

When I entered the stance- room (from which the daylight had
been excluded), I found that all the tall mirrors had been stood
vertically on their edges at one end of the apartment in a most
curious formation, and at several different angles, roughly in the
form of a semi-circlc. In front of the looking-glasses was placed
a chair. Sandy now asked me to switch off all the lights, count
ten, and then switch them on again. This I did, and found that
the spellbinder was sitting on the chair in front of the mirrors.

‘Walk slowly up to the chair’, said Sandy, ‘and see if you can
find my reflection.' I did as I was directed and must admit that
for a fraction of a second I was genuinely startled. Although
the end of the room farthest from the set-up was visible in
every detail, the reflection of my Caledonian friend from
Houndsditch appeared to be missing. The chair was also in-
visible, whereas normally, of course, both chair and man should
have been reflected.

Although for a moment I was impressed at the result of the
arrangement of the mirrors, my knowledge of the law of
optics came to my rescue, and I quickly realised that what I saw
before me was modelled on a well-known principle in con-
juring which is often used in stage illusions. And I lost no time
in telling Sandy what I thought of him and his ‘psychic gift’.
I went up to him, made him stand up, moved his chair six
inches from the spot where he had so carefully placed it, told
him to sit down again, stepped back a few paces— and I saw the

Ill

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
very unusual spectacle of half a man and half a chair reflected in
the mirrors. A move of another six inches and both man and
chair were fully reflected.

Well, they loaded up the van with a little less alacrity than
when they unloaded it and, an hour later, when I was going to
lunch, I saw Sandy and the van driver coming out of the local
hostelry where, doubtless, they had been consoling each other
with the fact that we live in a hard and incredulous world.

This story has a sequel. A few months after Sandy tried to
‘put over’ his mirror ‘phenomenon’, a toy, in which the same
optical principle was employed, was put on the market. I was at
once reminded of the illusion I had seen demonstrated in my
stance-zoom. The toy was in the form of a box, closed on all
sides, but partly open at the top. At one end of the box were a
number of strips of looking-glass and, facing them, was a peep-
hole. If a person put his eye to the peep-hole, he could see it
plainly reflected in the mirrors opposite. Then, if a small object,
such as a marble, were placed in the box and the observer again
placed his eye to the peep-hole, he could still see the reflection
of his own eye — but neither the marble nor the reflection of die
marble were visible. So my friend had turned his magic mirrors
to account, after all. It is wonderful how these ‘Scotsmen’
persevere!

One of the most amusing ‘mediums’ who ever visited my
stance-zoom was Claude Bishop, better known as ‘Dolores’,
who came all the way from Auckland, New Zealand, to show
us what he could do. He arrived with a manager and a Press
agent. ‘Dolores’ claimed to get spirit writing on slates in full
light; to be able to float a person in mid-air; to produce in a
pan of plastic clay, several feet away from him, the features of a
person on the other side of the room; to read sealed messages
(known as ‘billet reading’) , and similar marvels.

‘Dolores’ arrived at my office one afternoon to talk things

H2 Some Curious Claims to Mediumship
over. I had heard1 a good deal about him before he ever set foot
in this country, and, to convince him that we also knew a few
tricks, I immediately read for him his own message (which I
had not previously seen) that he put in a box which I supplied,
and which he locked; and I showed him that I could thread an
endless loop of cord on a jointless curtain ring: two tricks which
thoroughly fooled him. After some discussion, I promised to
test him, and the first statue was held on January 26, 1933.
Terms: .£5 per sitting.

Although we had heard so much about the miracles he per-
formed in full light, in my stance-room he demanded Stygian
blackness. ‘Dolores’ sat at the end of our stance table, with the
back of his chair hard up against the curtains of the cabinet in
which we had placed a dish of modelling clay, and the usual
musical toys — for the spirits to amuse themselves with. On
either side of ‘Dolores’ sat the two controllers, who each held
one of his hands. Every few seconds each controller recorded
the exact position of the medium’s hands and feet. These
observations were taken down in shorthand by the laboratory’s
secretary.

The above method of reporting a stance was necessary be-
cause we found that ‘Dolores’ was more of a contortionist than a
medium. His arms were in constant motion, like the sails of a
windmill. His feet were never in one spot for more than a few
seconds, and were often on the controllers’ knees. His head was
sometimes on the table, sometimes stretched out behind him,
almost in the cabinet But the position of every part of his body
was, second by second, recorded in our protocol. Controlling
‘Dolores’ is an excellent substitute for an hour’s ‘physical jerks’ !
Of course, nothing happened at this stance, but ‘Carlo’, his

1See: ‘Dolores and Hu Magic Slates: Spirit Writing in Karangahape
Road’; also, ‘Spint Medium in a Motor Smash. The Strange Premonition of
Claud Dolores’, two articles by Margaret Macpherson m the New Zealand
Observer and New Zealand Advertiser, Auckland, NJZ., for April 21 and 7,

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 113

spirit guide, declared be would produce miracles at the next
sitting. So we arranged another meeting for February 1.

For the second dance we used the same accessories as at the
first sitting, including a dish of modelling clay, over the
smoothed surface of which we painted a thin coating of a non-
drying, indelible carmine dye. If the ‘spirits’ were willing, or
were able, they could impress the clay and us at the same time;
on the other hand, if ‘Dolores’ surreptitiously freed a hand and
managed to mark the clay himself (it was only a few feet behind
him), his hand would be deeply s tamed. The clay was not inter-
fered with!

For our second test, the medium demanded a still blacker
stance- room, if possible. We held the medium in the same way.
Professor Dr. D. F. Fraser-Hams being one of the controllers,
whom ‘Carlo’ frequently changed. The exact position of every
part of ‘Dolores” body was recorded every few seconds. We
waited patiently for nearly an hour, but no phenomena were
witnessed.

Suddenly, we heard something drop on the table. ‘Apport!’
(i.e. any object supemormally brought into the stance-room)
exclaimed someone. Instantly, ‘Dolores’ wrenched his arm
from out of control and we heard that peculiar click which
false teeth make when being replaced. The lights were turned
up, but we could find nothing that had fallen. I then asked
‘Dolores’ whether he had false teeth, and he admitted that he
had an upper denture with four teeth in it. Experimenting
afterwards, I found that the noise we had heard was exactly like
a denture being dropped. With hands controlled, I found that I
could easily expel and replace an object in my mouth: no hands
were needed. I charged ‘Dolores’ with having played this trick
upon us. Nothing further happened, except that, at least
twenty times, ‘Carlo’ told Dr. Fraser-Harris that he (Fraser-
Harris) was a ‘wonderful medium’ and ‘very powerful* !

And so ‘Dolores’, his manager and his Press agent hided

H4 Some Curious Claims to Mediumship

away, die sum total of the New Zealander’s visit to our
laboratory being that I paid him a cheque for £$ for one
stance and showed him a couple of tricks which, I am sure, are
puzzling him to this day.

Some ’mediums’ are comic by accident, and one of my earliest
experiences concerns a farcical affair I witnessed several years
before the War, and which was entirely unpremeditated on the
part of the principal actor.

In a Brighton paper I saw an advertisement to the effect that
a medium was holding stances in a top back room at a house in
Waterloo Street, Hove. Admission, one shilling. I duly found
my way there one evening and was admitted to the medium’s
lodgings. It appeared that a man and his pretty daughter, Elsie,
were trying to eke out a living with the help of the ‘spirits’.
There were about eight of us in the room, which had been
carefully darkened to exclude all daylight. The medium was a
man about sixty years of age, and hailed from the Midlands.
His daughter was a slim girl of about twenty-three years.

Having arranged us round an oblong table, on which was a
battered tin trumpet, in an apartment (which also did duty as a
bedroom; I was sitting on an old hair trunk), the medium
opened the proceedings by playing ‘Abide With Me’, ‘Come,
Thou Holy Spirit, Come’ and ‘There is a Better Land’ on a
wheezy accordion. We were asked to join in ‘where we could’.
Then we sang ‘Three Blind Mice’, and the girl was told to turn
out the gas. I sat on the right of the medium.

In pitch darkness the man commenced to go into trance and
in a falsetto voice informed us that ‘Prairie Flower’,1 his spirit
guide, would manifest. After a short pause, a child’s voice an-

1The name ‘Prairie Flower’ was undoubtedly borrowed from the ‘Great
Sequah*, whose quack doctors (dressed as Mohawk Indians) and gilded
band-waggons were a familiar sight in England forty years ago. ‘Sequah’s
Oil’ and Trairie Flower’ were two specifics guaranteed to cure every ailment
under the sun.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 115

nounced that ‘Prairie Flower* was with us. The medium, re-
moving the trumpet from his lips (I could hear or feel every
movement of the man), then informed the sitters that he would
ask ‘Prairie Flower to show us her ‘pretty spirit lights’. This
was said in his normal voice and, again with the trumpet to his
mouth, the spirit promised she would. Then, in a pretty little
speech, ‘Prairie Flower’ told us all about the ‘Summerland’, and
how nice it was to be there.

I ought to point out that the sitters were not holding hands
and there was no control of the medium. In a minute or so, I
heard a shuffling by my side, where the medium was sitting,
and I was astonished to see, high up above me, a round lumin-
ous patch that looked like the full moon in a cloudless sky.
Murmurs of delight from the devotees. Then came a most un-
spintual exclamation from the medium, accompanied by a
shriek from his daughter. The ‘moon’ became suddenly
eclipsed; there was a hasty opening of doors and we sat there
wondering what had happened.

After a minute or so I suggested lighting the gas. This was
done, and someone went in search of the daughter who, upon
returning to the stance- room, said that her father was ill. The
sitters departed, but I remained behind to make a few in-
quiries. I told the girl that the ‘moon’ I had seen reeked of rat
poison and said I was astonished at her being a party to such an
obvious swindle.

Elsie did not attempt to deny the fret that that part of the
stance was a fake, and explained the cause of its sudden cessa-
tion. It appears that the man had in his hip pocket a flask of
phosphorised oil which, when exposed to the air, shone with a
pale, ethereal light. During his exertions with the accordion,
the flask broke against the back of his chair, and the contents
saturated the seat of his trousers. When he stood on the chair to
produce ‘Prairie Flower’s’ spirit lights, he felt for the bottle and
found what had happened. Elsie’s shriek informed him that the

n6 Some Curious Claims to Mediumship

spirit lights were in the wrong place! Hence the sudden stam-
pede.

The last time I heard of the man was through his advertise-
ment in a psychic paper, and apparently he had turned into a
‘healing medium’. He also offered to develop your psychic
faculties by post. When I saw his notice, I was sorely tempted to
write and remind him of the ‘phosphorised moon’ which had
so rudely interrupted ‘Prairie Flower’s’ platitudes from the
‘spirit world’.

I could give many further examples of curious claims to
mediumship which I have investigated: of the woman who
tried to levitate herself; of the midwife who was ‘controlled’
by the spirit of Homer, and reeled off verses which might have
originated in a box of Christmas crackers; of the Chelsea artist
who found that he was painting ‘spiritual’ subjects, and ‘didn’t
know how he did it’, etc., etc. But I have said enough to indi-
cate the vast amount of psychic chaff which I have to wade
through before I discover a single grain worthy of serious
attention. But even pseudo-mediumship has a certain educa-
tional value.

VIII. From Kensington to the Planet Mars

Many people, including scientists of note, have dreamed of
inter-planetary communication. Some have invented
machines; others have used the radio; and spiritualist mediums
have claimed to contact with the inhabitants of other planets.
Mars, especially, on account of the belief that life on this planet
is theoretically possible, has received considerable attention
from scientists and others, and from the mediums.

Mars is the fourth planet m order of distance from the sun.
At an opposition near perihelion it is about 3 s million miles
distant; at an opposition near aphelion it is about 63 million
miles from the sun. The atmosphere on Mars is thought to be of
a density less than a quarter that of the earth, with a mean tem-
perature of 48° Fahrenheit, never rising to more than 65° or 70°
Fahrenheit. And it must be very cold sometimes. A snow cap is
visible at certain periods, and this is thought due to the precipi-
tation of water vapour in the form of ice, or frozen carbonic
add. As the Mars summer approaches, the ‘cap’ gradually
melts. It is not thought possible that human beings like our-
selves could exist on the planet, though it is probable that vege-
table life is to be found there — and even some form of animal
life, adapted to the special conditions, may find a home on
Mars.

The very little we really know concerning Mars has not
deterred mediums from asserting that the planet is inhabited,
and various descriptions of Martian life, people, scenery, lan-
guage, etc., have been recorded at stances. The great ‘Mars’
medium was ‘FKlfcnc Smith’ (»'.e. Catherine £lise Muller) who
was investigated by Professor Theodore Flournoy, and the his-

n8 From Kensington to the Planet Mars

tory of this extraordinary mediumship is to be found in his
From India to the Planet Mars.1 In the trance state, Hflfcne de-
scribed a country she called Mars, with people very like our-
selves. She also spoke a ‘Martian’ language (which was found
to be based on French). In summing up the mediumship. Pro-
fessor Flournoy says he was struck by ‘the complete identity

of the Martian world . . . with the world in which we live

All the traits that I discover in the author of the Martian
romance can be summed up in a single phrase, its profoundly
infantile character.’

At least three ‘Martian’ mediums have passed through my
hands at various times. The first was a man who brought with
him a huge machine, which I will attempt to describe. On six
insulating porcelain castors was erected a circular copper plat-
form. On the platform were twelve stone jars such as are used
for storage batteries. In each jar was a stick of carbon, attached
to which was a brass terminal. From the centre of the lower
platform an ebonite pillar supported a round sheet of plate
glass, which covered, and almost touched, the twelve jars. On
this glass upper platform was a ten by eight-inch porcelain
photographic developing dish. In the dish were two plates of
metal (one of zinc and one of copper), each with six terminals.
At the other end of each plate was another terminal. As he
carried this curious apparatus from the taxi to my siance- room,
it looked exactly like a large edition of one of those display
stands, complete with jan, that one sees in a grocer’s window.

In addition to the stand, the medium brought with him
twelve bottles, each containing a liquid. The liquids were of
various colours. I asked him what they were composed of. ‘I
dare not tell you’, he said. ‘That is one of the Three Great

1See: Des bides i la Planke Mars, ttude surunCasde Sotrmambulisme avec
Gbssolalie, by Theodore Flournoy, London and Geneva, 1900; also the Eng*
lish translation. From India to the Planet Mars, New York and London, 1900.
Also the same author’s Nouvelks Observations sur tm Cos de Somnambulism,
Geneva, 190a.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 119

Secrets revealed to me by Alimarchitc, die King of the Passes in
Mars.’ I did not press him to tell me what the liquids were, but
they reminded me of the glass jars of coloured water seen in
chemists’ windows.

Having removed his belongings from the taxi, I helped him
to carry them into the stance-room and sort them out. He filled
the stone jars with the liquids, and I noticed that each jar was
numbered, and die botdes bore corresponding numbers. To the
terminals of the carbons in the jars he fastened wires, the other
ends of which were attached to the metal plates in the dish. To
the seventh (end) terminal of each metal plate an insulated
cable was chpped. Two dun copper discs, about the size of tea
plates, were soldered to the other ends of the cables.

When the ‘Mars machine’ was set up, he asked me for a jug
of warm distilled water. Into the water he dropped about four
ounces of white crystals which looked hke salammoniac. When
they had dissolved he emptied the contents of the jug into the
porcelain dish.

Mr. X said he was now ready, removed his collar and tie,
undid the buttons of his shirt and placed one copper disc on his
chest; the other he slipped down his back. He explained that his
instrument was now reproducing in him the exact elements of
which Mars is composed. ‘I am now part of Mars, and in a few
minutes the mental portion of me will leave my body, travel to
the planet, and I shall become a Martian.’ With that remark, he
sat on a chair beside the apparatus, stretched out his legs, threw
back his head, closed his eyes, and m about five minutes he ap-
peared to be asleep.

I sat down on the settee and watched him. He was breathing
heavily, and his hands were twitching. I noticed little bubbles
forming on the metal plates in the developing dish, and won-
dered whether he was receiving a mild electric shock. Suddenly
he jumped up, threw up his arms, and for ten minutes gave an
impassioned speech in some language I did not recognise. It was

120 From Kensington to the Planet Mars

like listening to a Hyde Park orator talking gibberish. The only
word I could understand was ‘Alimarchitc*, to whom, appar-
ently, he was addressing some sort of prayer. He gesticulated,
he moaned, he writhed. His eyes filled with tears. Suddenly he
knelt down, at the same time dragging the metal plates out of
the dish. Then more words in a supplicating tone of voice,
followed by a complete collapse on the floor, finished this most
extraordinary stance. After about five minutes, he became
almost normal, picked himself up, sat on the chair, and in rather
a weak voice said, ‘I feel faint, can I have some water?’ hi a
quarter of an hour he was quite normal again.

While he was putting on his collar and tie he told me his
experiences during the ‘astral excursion’ (as he termed it) he
had made from my stance-room in Kensington. He informed
me that the instrument he made had the effect of hypnotising
him and at once he became en rapport with the Martians. His
spiritual body travelled to the planet and he mingled freely
with the people who dwelt there. The language he spoke was
that used by the inhabitants of our own planet when conversing
with the Martians, though the latter, he informed me, do not
use a language (as we recognise the term) at all. In his normal
state he could not speak the ‘language’ I had heard, and did not
remember what had happened to him in trance.

The most interesting part of this stance was Mr. X’s descrip-
tion of Mars and its inhabitants. I plied him with many ques-
tions, and the following is a summary of the ‘information’ I
received. From a psychological point of view his story is
valuable:

The Martians are like huge amoebae, erect, semi-trans-
parent, and their method of locomotion is by rolling sideways.
They have no eyes, but can ‘see’ by means of a membrane
which coven them. In shape they resemble a nest of cups or
bells, stacked vertically. They are unisexual, and multiply by
fission. The lowest section, on which they support themselves,

121

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
gradually becomes thinner at the top where it joins the next
‘bell*. Owing to the weight of the creature, the bottom section
finally breaks off and becomes another small Martian, at the
same time as the parent grows a new head or uppermost ‘bell*.
In other words, the under part of a Martian is always becoming
detached, while the ‘head’ is continually reproducing itself.
The creatures are small, not more than about four feet m height,
and, apparendy, live for ever. Each weighs about eighty
pounds. They do not eat, but absorb nourishment from the
atmosphere by ingestion. They have no homes, live in the
open, and are continually moving round the planet, according
to the season.

Martians feel the cold, and the atmosphere is very ratified.
Mr. X informed me that the planet is a semi-fluid mass, one side
of which is covered with a dun crust of a hard mineral, rather
like ironstone. This crust is much heavier and thicker on the
other side of the planet. It is this ‘heavy’ side which always
faces the sun and receives its light and heat; consequently, the
Martians crowd on this side, as they must have warmth. On the
other side of the planet is always snow, in which they shrivel
up. No Martian has ever seen the snow cap which is visible
from the earth, and the polar regions are unknown to them.

The sunny side of Mars is covered with low mountains and
vast plains. A reddish-brown iron dust is everywhere. Certain
large patches of the plains are covered with a leathery, brown-
ish-green vegetation, with leaves like the Alpine Edelweiss.
There are no other flora. For fauna, there are small, brown,
leathery animals, about the size of rabbits, which roll over and
over the vegetation without ceasing, and from which they
absorb food. They multiply by fission. Their bodies gradually
lengthen and they become thin in the centre. Finally, they
break into two perfect animals, and the life cycle is repeated.
There are no birds, but a bat-like creature fives amongst die
vegetation and can hop a few inches into the air.

122 From Kensington to the Planet Mars

Apparently, the Martians cannot travel long distances. The
crust on which they dwell is always sliding over die fluid core
of the planet, but the inhabitants never move far from where
they originated. They have no power of speech, but if two
Martians make contact with each other, each knows the other’s
thoughts and wishes. ‘They are very intelligent,* said Mr. X,
‘but theirs is a simple, natural intelligence and they are bom
with it.’ They have leaders among them. There is our friend
‘Alunarchite’, the King of the Passes; there is a lord of the
mountains, king of the animals, etc., with an Emperor of the
Snows who is the supreme head of all the Martians. I asked X
about the famous ‘canals', but he said, ‘I have never seen
them’.

Of course, all this Martian nonsense sounds rather silly, but
as a phase of ‘mediumship’ it is interesting to the psychist and
psychologist. I asked Mr. X whether he had ever read Wells’s
The War of the Worlds,1 but he said he had not. The last time I
heard from Mr. X was about two years after our curious
stance. He wrote from a private mental asylum m Belfast, and
asked me to procure for him a rare mineral, of which I had
never heard. With the letter was a short note from the doctor in
charge of the asylum, who asked me to wnte something to his
patient in order to humour him. This I did, but I never heard
from the ‘medium’ again.

My second experience with a ‘Mars medium’ was rather
amusing. A woman came to see me and said that, once a
month, at certain phases of the moon, she had ‘periods’ during
which, in the entranced state, she could communicate with
Mars. Would I test her? I said I would. She produced a small
diary from her handbag, and a large planisphere which she had
in a parcel, and, after five minutes’ calculations with pencil and
paper, told me that the next ‘period’ would frill on the follow-

‘London, 1898. The novel deals with an attack on the earth by Martians,
and their defeat.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 123

ing Wednesday week at 10.30 in the morning. I said I would
expect her on the date mentioned.

Punctually to the minute, Mrs. Z put in an appearance. She
asked to be allowed to change her clothes in the stance-room. It
appeared that she had to don a ‘Mars costume’, which was noth-
ing more than a bathing dress, on which had been embroidered
the signs of the zodiac m white silk. These were dotted about
the front of her, the back of her dress bearing the familiar con-
stellation of Orion, with a few odd stars here and there. I asked
her whether she had done the embroidery herself, and she said,
‘Yes, but under guidance’. Wearing nothing except the astro-
logical bathing dress, and a pair of white shoes, she looked
strangely out of place m our stance-room. She informed me
that it was imperative that she had a rest before the stance and
asked permission to he on the couch. She said she would be
ready in about half an hour. It was then about eleven o’clock.

About twelve o’clock, hearing snores from the stance-room, I
peeped in and saw Madame Z stretched out on the settee, fast
asleep. I had a good mind to awaken her, but thought I might
be breaking some ‘condition’ if she were prematurely dis-
turbed, so refrained from interfering. At one o’clock she was
still asleep, and I went out to lunch, leavmg the front door un-
locked m case she awoke and wished to go home. I returned at
2.1$ and found her still snoring. At 3.30 I was really concerned
as to what I should do. Was she merely asleep, or in a deep
hypnotic trance? I decided to test her. In the stance-room (which
is also where my collection of books is kept) was a pair of
library-steps. I arranged these against the door so that when the
latter was opened the steps would crash to the ground. I re-
turned to my office. Ten minutes later I sent my secretary into
the stance- room to see how the medium was getting on. Know-
ing nothing about the steps, she pushed open the door— and the
steps crashed to the ground. I do not know who was the more
astonished, my secretary or the medium. Madams Z jumped up

124 From Kensington to the Planet Mars
with a cry of alarm, thinking perhaps the Martians were attack-
ing her. She was astonished that she had been asleep all day and
excused herself on the plea that she had had a late night. She
said it was impossible to hold the stance as it had to take place in
the morning. She informed me that the next ‘period’ would be
in a month’s time, and that she would communicate with me
again. But she did not keep her word, and I have not seen her
since. I often think of the zodiacal bathing suit and the ‘Mar-
tian’ sleep on our too comfortable settee.

My third attempt at testing a ‘Martian medium’ was made
also through a woman, and was the most successful, inasmuch
as we did obtain something concrete in the shape of ‘Martian’
writing, drawing, and a dictaphone record of a ‘Mara an love
song’.

On February 2, 1926, 1 had a letter from Mr. H. Mansfield
Robinson, a doctor of laws and a well-known solicitor. He in-
formed me that he was interested m Mars and the Martians and
had patented an instrument called the Psychomotormeter, by
means of which he had ‘succeeded in getting in touch with
Martians both by the above instrument and by obtaining their
natural voices speaking in the Martian language through a
floating trumpet and through a medium m semi-trance’. He
told me that he would like to demonstrate these voices to me, if
1 would endeavour to record them on a dictaphone. He also
asked me to photograph the ‘accompanying phantom’ by
ultra-violet light. I replied that I would like to experiment with
him and his medium, who was a Mrs. St. John James. A few
days later he wrote me, and fixed a date for the first test. He
said that Mrs. James was an automatic writer and it was through
her pencil that she discovered that she was in touch with Man.

It appeared that Dr. Robinson himself was psychic and was
able to contact with the Martians. In a letter dated February 12,
1926, he told me that he had arranged telcpathically with a
Martian lady named Oomaruru to be present at the tests. ‘She is

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 125

very pleased at the idea of being treated with scientific serious-
ness, and I hope to get Pawleenoos, also a very cultured giant,
but he was too busy this morning in Mars to attend my call*
A test sitting was finally arranged for March 9, 1926.

A few days before the sitting Dr. Robinson sent me the
following programme. It had been arranged by himself, tele-
pathically, with some of the chief inhabitants of Mars. He
stated that Mrs. James knew nothing of the programme:

1. Oomaruru, female Martian, to speak short poem of her

own composition into dictaphone and then write down
same m Martian language.

2. Martian princess to speak into dictaphone and write down

some message in Martian.

3. Pawleenoos, male Martian, to speak love song into dicta-

phone, and then sing same and write it down through
the hand of Mrs. James.

4. Martian savage bushman to speak Martian and write it

down — all through Mrs. St. John James, sensitive.

(Signed) H. Mansfield Robinson.

I invited a few people to the Martian seance and installed two
dictaphones. The sitting was held at 2.30 in the afternoon, in
full light. Dr. Robinson, accompanied by Mrs. James, arrived
just after two o’clock and pronounced our arrangements satis-
factory. We sat round a table, Mrs. James facing the hght. In
front of the medium were placed a foolscap sketch-book and
the dictaphones. Pencil in hand, she gazed at the ceiling, sighed
deeply, looked vacandy at the circle of sitters, and gave a spas-
modic jerk in her chair: Dr. Robinson said she was entranced.

The medium’s countenance suddenly changed. Her face be-
came animated and her eyes sparkled. Striking the table with
her hand, she uttered a few words in a strange tongue, and com-
menced making a series of curious marks in die sketch-book.
Dr. Robinson said that Mrs. James was controlled by Ooma-
ruru, ‘the woman in green’, who had kindly written down the

126

From Kensington to the Planet Mars

'll/ \3> %

/by 'I 5

. /P-

K " '

Martian alphabet, complete

Signature of Oomaruru

‘Thank you!’ in Martian

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 127

complete Martian alphabet for us. Oomaruru signed her name
and wrote ‘Thank you!’ in the Martian language. Then Paw-
lecnoos, the ‘cultured giant’, drew his portrait in die sketch-

Head of Pawlccnoos, ‘cultured Martian giant’

< ^ ft S A

^ V> ^ ^

% $ 03 ®

‘Symphonic chant’ of the Martians

book — of course, through the hand of the medium. The next
part of the programme consisted of Oomaruru speaking the
Martian alphabet into the dictaphone, which was followed by

128 From Kensington to the Planet Mars

Ac ‘Martian princess’ crooning a love song, which was also re-
corded on Ac wax cylinder. If Ae song was not Martian, it was
certainly ‘unearthly’, and sounded rather like a solo by a crowing
cock.There was nothing musical about it. I still possess Ae records.

The ‘Martian princess’ Aen proceeded to give us a message.
Fortunately this was in Ae English language and not in Mar-
tian hieroglyphics. Mrs. James wrote rapidly, m a sprawling
hand, and some of Ae words are undecipherable. But here is
part of Ae ‘message’, as far as I can make it out: ‘O Love
Divine and beautiful I am all you want: It is a holy thing;

Come wise and holy I come my love to Aee and win my

answer sweet love I take Aee but wait till Ae dawn

of Peace . . . ,’ etc. There is much more m Ae same strain, but it
is almost unreadable. It will be noticed that Aere is nothing
transcendental in Ae ‘message’, and apparently love-sick Mar-
tian princesses are just as sentimental as our own girls.

After Ae ‘princess’ had done her best, Oomaruru wrote her
‘own love poem’ — at least, that is what Dr. Robinson has
marked it in Ae sketch-book. It is in Ae ‘Martian language’,
which consists merely of a number of symbols intermixed wiA
what are undoubtedly Roman capitals. Finally, anoAer Mar-
tian, perhaps Ae ‘savage bushman’, wrote Ae ‘symphonic
chant’ of Ae Martians. It is highly picturesque and a little re-
miniscent of our own musical notation. That was Ae end of
my experiments wiA Mrs. St. John James. Dr. Robinson con-
tinued to sit wiA her, Aough I think he afterwards attempted
to communicate wiA Mars by means of long-wave radio. I am
afraid that meAums have told me very little about Mars and
the Martians. I agree wiA Professor Flournoy that all we have
heard is ‘profoundly infantile’.

Another attempt to signal to Mars by radio was described in
the Press1 on November 3, 1932. We read of ‘a group of sden-

1Sce ‘Scientist* Plan a Signal Station to Call Man’, m the Daily Express for
Nov. 3, 193a.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 129

tifically-minded men’ meeting weekly in London, and of a
medium ‘for whom it is claimed that a spirit control is in mind-
communication with the men on Mars’. The name of the
medium was not mentioned, but I strongly suspect that it was
Mrs. St. John James. Plans were made for erecting wireless
stations in the arctic circle (where the alleged radio messages
from Mars were received) but I have heard nothing of the
scheme for years.

Unfortunately, some attempts at communicating with Mars
are very cosdy. In 1929 1 was approached by a group of investi-
gators (including a distinguished professor of engineering) who
wished me to undertake some research work as to the possi-
bility of communicating with Mars by means of a powerful
beam of light. I spent a considerable amount of time and
money m testing the possibilities of the scheme, which I per-
fected— on paper. But I am still waiting for the £14,000 which
the scheme would cost

We first considered the burning of metal magnesium in
oxygen in order to produce an intense light, but could not de-
vise any practicable method of concentrating the illuminant
into a beam which would give an enormous range m any one
direction. Then I approached Messrs. Chance Brothers & Co.,
Ltd., the famous lighthouse engineers, of Smethwick, Bir-
mingham, who immediately interested themselves in the
scheme and went to considerable trouble in computing a for-
mula which would give us a beam of light of an intensity pre-
viously unheard of. In a letter to me dated December 14, 1929,
they state: ‘We are now putting a proposition before you
which will give a beam of light far and away more powerful
than anything that has hitherto been done and giving a total
calculated candle power of practically is, 000 million.’ The
apparatus they suggested consisted of three of their largest light-
house lenses of the first order, in conjunction with a special high
intensity arc lamp with means for adjusting die three beams

130 From Kensington to the Planet Mars

so that they formed one main beam in the direction desired.
The lenses consisted of ‘First Order HolophotaT, 920 mm. focal
distance, with a ‘Sperry* high intensity electric arc lamp. The
three units were to be mounted on one cast-iron base plate or
pedestal, each unit resting on eight supporting stools or stan-
dards, with mechanical tilting by three screw jacks. Detailed
blue prints of the complete set-up accompanied the specifica-
tion. The cost of die optical equipment was estimated at £9500,
including an automatic Morse transmitter for sending signals.

The suggested site for the experiments was near the observa-
tory on the Jungfraujoch, in the Bernese Obcrland, 11,340 feet
above sea-leveL I surveyed the site in the summer of 1929 and
found it emmendy suitable. I arranged with the company own-
ing die rack-and-pinion railway up the Jungfrau for a supply of
electricity from their turbine power-works at Lauterbrunnen.
The railway would be particularly useful for the transportation
of our apparatus.

It soon leaked out why I was on the Jungfrau and the Con-
tinental Press took a keen interest in die project. One Swiss
paper seriously suggested that such an intense light on the
Jungfrau would blind half Europe. This is rubbish, of course.
Our chief concern was whether, assuming there are sentient
beings on Man, the beam would be seen by them. The opinions
of scientists differ on this point. The project is all ready to be
launched and I am now awaiting some rich, philanthropic
amateur scientist to put up the money in order that we can
make the test

IX. The Strange Case of Madame X

The first case which came before the notice of the National
Laboratory of Psychical Research (which I founded in
1925, and of which I was director) in its official and corporate
capacity presents many points of interest which are not usually
associated with the practice of mediumship.

Madame X is a cultured English lady who has spent many
years in the south of France, where at one time she acted as
correspondent for a well-known London journal. She is petite,
lithe and active, has bobbed hair, and was forty-six years of age
when she asked me to investigate her claims. She has been in-
terested in the scientific side of psychical research nearly all her
life.

In March 1924 Madame X discovered that she had the gift of
automatic writing. The discovery was made in a curious way.
When putting down items in her market book, she found that
extraneous words and messages were being intermingled with
the list of her household requirements. She cultivated this gift
of writing and secured innumerable ‘messages’. She likewise re-
ceived messages from an alleged spirit control who stated that
he was ‘Arthur Russell, a noted gymnast in the earth life’. Then
another control, who called himself ‘Gerald’, claimed to be
helping her. ‘Gerald’ said that in earth life he was a famous
virtuoso and excelled in music and drawing.

The automatic writing was accompanied eventually by auto-
matic drawing, and at various times Madame Xhas executed a
large number of pastels which, at first glance, appear to be
merely meaningless scrolls and figures; but it is alleged that
there is some hidden meaning in them, and the psychic asserts

132 The Strange Case of Madame X

that she is able to interpret them. To the writer, the ‘pictures’

are quite meaningless. Madame X had never previously drawn

anything and she appeared to imagine that the designs drawn

by her, under the controlling influence of ‘Gerald’, were

masterpieces.

From drawing to music is but a short step, and one day the
psychic found that, when under the control of ‘Gerald’, she
became a brilliant pianist with a wonderful technique. In her
normal state she could play only moderately well. Her voice,
too, became like that of a trained singer; whereas, ordinarily,
she could not sing at all. The Council of the Laboratory had no
opportunity of testing these statements.

Though normally able to swim a little, the psychic found that
when controlled by the gymnast, ‘Arthur Russell’, she could
disport herself in the water like a professional giving an exhibi-
tion display. Again, we have only her word for this.

As time went on, the psychic found that the artistic ‘Gerald’
gradually gave way to the muscular ‘Arthur Russell’, who ap-
peared to take almost complete possession of her, compelling
her to do daily gymnastic exercises of several hours’ duration.
It is fortunate for her that she is slim, lithe, and wiry, and weighs
about eight stone; it would have been disastrous for the psychic
if she had been corpulent. She states that she put up some sort of
fight against ‘Arthur Russell’s’ domination. In the early stages,
it was once three hours before the control could even raise her
arm. But her resistance gradually broke down, and she danced
and wrestled, and fought and struggled (with invisible beings),
apparently at the whim of the control. Another alleged entity
now made its appearance, and the psychic, who said that she
could plainly see it clairvoyandy, stated that it had a goose’s
head and a dragon’s tail.

It was about this period that Madame X decided to have her
mediumship tested scientifically, and proceeded to Pans for
that purpose. I understand that she arrived late in July or early

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 133

in August— at any rate during the vacation, when the French
psychists were away. She then came to London and placed her
services at the disposal of the National Laboratory. I had a long
interview with the psychic, who gave me the particulars re-
corded above. We arranged for a sitting on August 13, 1925.
Two days before the stance I recaved the following letter from
the psychic:

‘London, 11/8/1925.

Dear Mr. Price,

Shall I mention one or two dungs which may help? I
shall need as strong a light as possible, unshaded electric. . . .
Please do not get alarmed if I look m trouble (in case of levita-
tion, very gymnastic), and do not touch me on any account,
even if I fall. I cry sometimes and even seem to want to vomit,
but it’s nothing important, as you will soon see. I find that
talking and movement by the sitters take away [the alleged
‘power’] and may stop me entirely. On the other hand, intense
concentration is not necessary. The Unseen Operators often
work up to something while I am lying at my ease and wonder-
ing whether to buy white or gray stockings, or remembering
that to-morrow I must pay the milk bill. After the sitting,
please let me rest for a few minutes and then I will answer ques-
tions. ... It is no use talking to me during the sittings: I can’t
answer. In later sittings, if we have any, you may find tele-
pathic suggestions complied with if practicable.

Yours sincerely,

(Signed) “X”.’

The psychic also informed us that she wanted a thick carpet
on the floor and the room cleared of all furniture. We pro-
cured the brightest lights we could get, though the ideal condi-
tions for her display are brilliant sunlight and the open sea-
shore. She works better in a bathing costume.

Madame X arrived to time on the appointed day, but would
not shake hands with us as ‘the power would be dissipated*.

134 The Strange Case of Madame X

Those of the council present at this sitting were a Dr. Z.,

Lieutenant-Colonel W. W. Hardwick and myself. The stance

commenced at eleven o’clock and lasted about an hour and a

half

The psychic arrived at the stance attired in a pair of black
close-fitting knickers, a white knitted ‘jumper’, black stockings
and dancing shoes — an excellent costume for die display which
followed. She inspected the carpet, which she pronounced satis-
factory. The floor-covering is an important point in her per-
formance. ‘Arthur Russell’ is frequently violent and throws die
psychic all over the room. Once ‘Arthur Russell’ threw her out
of bed. The psychic fell on her head and did not move for a
considerable tune. It is important, then, that Madame X has
something soft to fall on when being controlled by ‘Arthur’.
Having pronounced our arrangements satisfactory, the psychic
removed her false teeth and the stance commenced. The follow-
ing account is taken from the notes I made during the sitting.

Madame X stood m the middle of the room, rubbing her
hands and staring vacantly at various parts of the wall, ceiling,
etc. Suddenly, as if lashed by a whip, she spun round and
round on one foot and fell to the ground, where she remained,
muttering. She rose and made sucking noises with her mouth.
The sucking noises gave place to a peculiar sound — very like a
whistle — caused by the rapid intake of breath with the lips
almost closed. She then laughed and groaned alternately, at last
failing into an excited and emotional state bordering on
ecstasy. The ecstatic period passed, and she stood on one leg, as
still as a statue, in an attitude of supplication. Suddenly she
shrank away from some thing or person which, it is alleged, she
saw dairvoyandy, and shouted ‘Oh ! no !’ in apparent alarm. She
again fell to the floor, where she went through the pantomime
of swimming. She rose, posed in different attitudes, suddenly
fell again and twisted her arms and legs like a professional con-
tortionist Then she became as still as a statue again; then curi-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 135

ous movements of her mouth, as if chewing something. Then
she crossed over to me, took the pencil I was using for note-
taking, and with it drew imaginary objects m the air. Pencil fell
to floor, and she twirled round and round like an acrobat, with
occasional tumbles on to the floor. Then the psychic com-
menced dancing round the room; a peculiar dance, reminiscent
of the Pentecostal Dancers or the Shakers. At 12.25 she picked
up a piece of blank paper off my lap, stared at it rntendy,
dropped it, rubbed her hands, opened the window, and threw
some invisible object into the garden. The stance was over.

The psychic did not appear particularly tired after her very
strenuous exhibition, and seemed quite refreshed after a little
wine. It was an extraordinary display for a woman nearly
forty-seven years of age. The case presented several unusual
features, but it was difficult to decide whether the manifesta-
tions were due to a psychical or pathological disturbance. I
rather favoured the latter hypothesis though certain aspects of
the case were consistent with a state of partial dissociation of
personality caused by self-induced hypnosis. Madame X ap-
peared absolutely normal when not under control A third
hypothesis is that the ‘phenomena’ were the outcome of that
particular form of ecstasy which in psychophysics is recognised
as pathological to the extent that the mind of the subject is
absorbed by a dominant idea. In the case of Madame X, it was
the considered opinion of the medical members of the council
that the psychic could induce at will a semi-hystencal state
when she then supposed herself to be controlled by ‘Gerald’ and
‘Arthur Russell’. We decided to have one more sitting. The
second stance was held on August 20, 1925, the sitters including
several members of our counaL The time and duration of the
stance were the same as for the previous sitting.

The psychic was dressed as previously, but just before the
sitting commenced she complained that the room was stuffy,
and that she wanted a lot of fresh air. Then she sat near the

136 The Strange Case of Madame X

window for some minutes. Then she stood in die centre of the
room and stared at the wall for half a minute. I will now give
my verbatim notes — taken as die stance proceeded — which will
convey to the reader an exact idea of what happened during
this curious sitting:

'Psychic sat on table; got up, and spun round like a peg-top.
Psychic sat on the floor. Psychic rolled on floor and remained
motionless. Then (nearly) head over heels. Then head over
heels and remained on her head for some minute and a half.
Psychic makes sucking noise, with slight foaming of the mouth.
Psychic cries out and struggles with an m visible something or
somebody. Talking and muttering to herself. Spins round and
round. An involuntary “Oh!” as if hurt. Psychic commences to
whistle and hum; commences to dance and cry. (Psychic ap-
parently exhausted, and rests a little, leaning on table.) Psychic
throws herself on floor and tries to “levitate”. Holds up an in-
visible object and appears to measure something under the
table. Slaps herself violently. Knocks her head on the table.
Rises, and is immediately thrown to floor again as if by her
“control”. Psychic laughs and mutters some words. Spins round
upon the posterior portion of her body, her foot catching my
knee. Psychic has a terrific struggle with an invisible object, and
remains flat on floor exhausted and motionless. Sucking sound.
Half rises, knees and head on floor. Again tries to levitate her-
self Sucking noise. Pretended to be lame and laughed. Jumped
on table and then off again. Psychic is thrown to the floor.
Commences to cry and calls out. Curls herself up on floor and
spins round again. Rises. Lies flat on table and roars with
laughter. Is thrown to ground. Strikes her chest violently and
daps her hands. Rises. Puts her head out of open window, as if
she wants air. Psychic hisses out the word “finished”, takes an
invisible object from her mouth and throws it out of window.
Psychic apparently quite normal again.’

By the time Madame X had finished her extraordinary per-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 137

forman.ce. Dr. Z, our medical adviser, was convinced it was a
most interesting case of self-induced hysteria, and presented the
council with the following medical report:

‘As a member of the Council of the National Laboratory of
Psychical Research, London, I have had, on two occasions, the
opportunity of sitting with Madame X in order that I might
witness the manifestations which occurred at her stances. It was
her desire, I was informed, that the manifestations should be
examined with the view to developing her alleged mediumistic
faculties if it was found she possessed any psychic power.

‘The activities presented consisted of posturing and ungrace-
ful contortion of the whole figure, often in a supine or prone
position. There was no loss of consciousness, and obvious care
was taken not to suffer bruises or knocks in her tumbling. The
eyes were open and the pupils not dilated at any time and the
rhythm of the breathing remained always undisturbed. The
conclusion I came to was that the lady was hysterical, and the
manifestations purely hysterical. There appeared no evidence of
any secondary personality and certainly no reason to suppose
that the contortions, etc., were in any way due to a “control”
or external intelligence. All the manifestations seemed purpose-
less and without meaning.’

The remainder of the council agreed with Dr. Z that it
would be unwise to continue the sittings with Madame X,
whose manifestations were thought due to pathological causes,
though there was little trace of abnormality during the periods
when she was not under the alleged control of ‘Gerald’ and
‘Arthur Russell’.

After our experiments, Madame X sent me a number of
paintings and drawings1 which, it was alleged, had been exe-
cuted automatically in the trance state. I could not contradict

1See The Listener for July 3, 1933, p. 13, where one of Madame X’i trance
drawings is reproduced.

138 The Strange Case of Madame X

her, but I could make nothing at all of the designs, which were
supposed to be extremely symbolical and highly imaginative.
Because I am neither art critic nor xsthetidst is, perhaps, the
reason why I failed to appreciate them.

During my first Scandinavian lecture tour in 1925 two cases
similar to that of Madame X were brought to my notice. I
assisted m opening an ‘exhibition of objects of psychic interest’
organised by the Copenhagen Psykisk Oplysningforening.
Amongst the exhibits were trance drawings executed by two
‘mediums’ when in the exalted or ecstatic state. Both cases were
of extreme interest, but for different reasons. The name of one
of the ecstatics was Josef Kotzian, of Priroz, Czechoslovakia,
who produces automatically most wonderful drawings1 of con-
ventional flowers. He uses a lead pencil only, and his work is
indescribably beautiful. In his normal state, I was informed,
Herr Kotzian cannot draw at all.

The second ecstatic (in this case an hysteriac) was a woman,
whose name was not revealed. She suffered from a mental
derangement, and her hysterical insanity was characterised by
sudden and uncontrollable changes of emotion. During these
periods she sometimes fell into a trance and commenced
drawing* — though she had never been taught this subject m her
life. She uses the right and left hands alternately in her work.

Like Madame X, Frau cannot draw at all unless she is in an

ecstatic condition.

The subsequent history of Madame X is interesting. Having
refused her further facilities to disport herself in our laboratory,
she returned to France (where she resided) and tried to induce
die Parisian scientists to investigate her claims. She was not
successful Then she started a small journal devoted to psychic
and related subjects. I do not think the paper was a success.

1See The Listener for July 3, 193$, p. 13, where one of Madame X’i trance
drawing* u reproduced.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 139

Finally, she wrote her autobiography and sent me a copy in
manuscript (it has never been published). She compiled an
extraordinary — and quite interesting — story, which is a valu-
able document as throwing considerable light on die psychol-
ogy of pscudo-mcdiumship. It has an honoured place in our
collection of literary curiosities.

X. How to Test a Medium

If I were asked to give, in a few words, some sound advice to
a prospective investigator of psychic phenomena, I would
say: ‘Believe nothing you see or hear at a stance.’ I agree that
this dictum is rather sweepmg, but it is mtended principally for
those bereaved ones whose grief drives them into the medium’s
parlour; and for the inexperienced, credulous and emotional
type of person most hkely to be attracted towards spiritualism.
As these Confessions prove, inexplicable things do happen at
stances and elsewhere, but it is only after long experience, an
extensive training in the technique of testing a medium, and a
thorough knowledge of the art of mystification, that one can
discriminate between truth and falsehood, illusion and reality.

Unless one embarks on a scientific investiganon of a certain
medium or type of alleged phenomena, it is best to leave psy-
chic matters severely alone. It is futile to ‘dabble’ in psychical
research. I know many persons who have spent a small fortune
in going the usual round of the mediums, and, at the finish,
wished they had kept their money in their pocket. Lack of any
evidence for a future life resulted in disappointment, and they
became disgusted with the whole business. Even as an enter-
tainment, phenomena-hunong is poor sport, and one can
amuse oneself much better and more cheaply m many other
ways. To the initiated, the typical sitting is a bonng affair. It is
true that, now and then, one comes across something that im-
presses one and is thought worthy of further investigation; but
stances staged by professional mediums arc often extremely
tedious, and usually quite unconvincing. Occasionally, the
’psychic’ charlatans provide us with a novelty in the way of

Confusions of a Ghost-Hunter 141

‘phenomena’, but unless one is professionally interested in in-
vestigating fraudulent mediums, it is best to keep clear of them:
one can see better conjuring tricks on the stage. Those who are
not well balanced mentally, or are emotional, should shun
them like the plague. The unstable type of sitter is invariably
credulous, knows nothing whatever about deceptive methods,
and is easily deceived.

From the above remarks it may be thought that there are no
mediums (this is a ridiculous and misleading term, but I am
compelled to use it) worthy of investigation. Good mediums
do exist, but they are so few and far between that the casual in-
quirer is not likely to come across them. And as I am certain
that, in spite of my rather mild warning, some readers of these
Confessions will still wish to visit those psychics who make a
living out of ‘mediumship’, I will suggest some simple pre-
cautions which should be taken when testing a medium. But,
before I give these few rules (which have been based on long
experience in solving the mystenes of the stance-room), I will
indicate briefly the types of phenomena likely to be investi-
gated- These may conveniently be divided mto three classes:
(a) abnormal mental phenomena; (b) abnormal physical phen-
omena; (c) miscellaneous phenomena.

Mental phenomena mclude automatism, the art of doing
something (such as ‘automatic’ writing, painting, etc.) uncon-
sciously and often spontaneously: the medium is known as an
automatist. Clairvoyance (‘clear seeing’), the ability to see or
discern objects not within reach of the eye under normal condi-
tions (alleged especially of persons in the trance or hypnotic
state); second-sight, seer-ship. Clair audience (‘clear hearing’),
the ability to perceive sounds not within reach of the car under
normal conditions (alleged especially of persons in the trance
or hypnotic state). Psychometry or tactile clairvoyance, said to be
possessed by persons capable of divining, by means of physical
contact, the properties or character of a thing with which it has

142 How to Test a Medium

been associated. The direct voice, die voice of an alleged spirit or
entity controlling a medium, which manifests independently of
the vocal organs of the medium. Hypnotism, an artificially in-
duced somnambulistic state (‘hypnosis’) in which die mind
becomes passive, acting readily upon suggestion or direction,
and upon regaining normal consciousness retaining little or no
recollection of the actions or ideas dominant during die hyp-
notic state. Sometimes this state is self-induced. Precognition,
supernormal knowledge of future events. Scrying, divination by
gazing into a crystal, pool of ink, back of a spoon or other re-
flecting surface. Also called crystal gazing. The ‘pictures’ seen
by the scryer are, of course, subjective. Telepathy, thought-
transference, extra-sensory perception, the sympathetic affection of
one mind or person by another at a distance, through a sup-
posed emotional influence and without any direct communica-
tion by die normal channels of sense. Xenoglossy, spcakmg in a
real language of which the medium has no conscious know-
ledge. Common to most or all mental phenomena is the fact of
a person acquiring knowledge in a supernormal manner. The
knowledge itself is usually of a normal type; it is the manner
alone of its acquisition that constitutes the supernormal element.

Physical phenomena include apports (from the French verb
apporter, to bring, produce), objects supcmormally brought
into the stance- room; levitation, the supernormal raising of an
object or person, thus apparendy overcoming the force of
gravity; materialisation, the production of spirits or entities, in
the form, likeness, or appearance of human beings, either in
whole or part, which are said to be composed of ‘ectoplasm’ or
‘teleplasm’, q.v. 'Pseudopod' (literally ‘false foot’) is an ecto-
plasmic limb, extrusion, lever, rod, stump, or mass, usually
only partly formed, which is produced in the same way as a
‘full-form’ materialisation; raps, percussive knocks or taps pro-
duced on table, chairs, walls, etc., by means other than normal;
slate-writing, the direct writing or ‘spirit’ messages which appear

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 143

on slates, sometimes locked and sealed, at a stance usually held
for the purpose (the psychic is known as a ‘slate-writing
medium’); spirit photograph, a portrait of a deceased person
alleged to have been supemormally produced by a medium
upon a photographic plate (if a message in writing or a drawing
appears on the plate, with or without its being exposed in the
camera, it is known as a skotograph or psychograph); table-
tippitig or table-turning, movements of a table, on the surface of
which a number of persons are resting their fingers with the
object of obtaining ‘spirit’ messages — the table tipping once for
‘yes’, twice for ‘no’, etc.; or the alphabet is recited, the table
tipping at certain letters which, eventually, form sentences;
telekinesis, the supernormal displacement of objects; teleplasm or
ectoplasm, an amorphous substance externalised or produced by
a medium during a stance and used to build up ‘psychic rods’,
‘pscudopods’, or other ‘materialisations’; trumpet phenomena,
spirit voices or messages given through a metal trumpet, card-
board cylinder, or similar tube, by means other than the me-
dium’s own vocal organs (c/i ‘direct voice’).

Miscellaneous phenomena include haunting (which needs no
explanation); phantasm, a subjective vision or appearance in
which a mental image is taken to be an external reality;
Poltergeist (from the German verb poltem, to rattle, and Geist,
ghost), similar to haunting, except that the disturbing entity
is usually of a noisy or mischievous nature. Poltergeist pheno-
mena are often associated with adolescents, and very rarely
with mediums.

There are other phases of mediumship and various types of
phenomena which I have not described, because they belong to
the realm of abnormal psychology, and the reader is very un-
likely to come into contact with them. But, for the sake of
completeness, I will mention them: they include: dissociation of
personality or multiple personality, cryptomnesia, impersonation,
possession, etc. It should be understood that, although I have

144 How to Test a Medium

described the various kinds of alleged phenomena, it has not
been scientifically proved that the phenomena themselves are
genuine, though a primafade case has been made out for some
of diem.

I •will now give a few suggestions for testing mediums, begin-
ning with those who produce ‘mental’ phenomena. I will group
automatism, clairvoyance, tactile clairvoyance, dairaudience
and scrying under one head, as the same precautions should be
taken when investigating any of these phases of mediumship. In
each case the medium supplies some information that is sup-
posed to be obtained supemormally, and it is your duty, as a
sitter, to see that the psychic is given no opportunity of acquir-
ing this information normally, subsequently handing it back to
you during the stance, or at a future sitting.

We will assume that you wish to test a certain clairvoyante or
trance medium who is unknown to you personally. The first
tiling to do is to make sure that she does not know you, even by
repute. In any case, call yourself X. Then find her telephone
number and get a friend (someone unknown to the medium) to
make an appointment for you by phone, using a call box for
this purpose. Do not telephone from your home or from a
friend’s house. If the medium has no telephone number, get a
friend to write to her, making an appointment. Do not write
yourself. It is extraordinary how much information an astute
person can glean from a simple letter. The hand-writing, com-
position, quality of paper, etc., all tell their own story. Even a
typed letter conveys to an intelligent person certain character-
istics which are better not displayed.

Having made an appointment with the medium, arrive at
her house punctually. Do not drive up in your car, as index
numbers have proved useful to dishonest mediums, and certain
indicia can be gleaned from a private motor. If you cannot walk,
take a taxi. Do not wear a uniform or other distinguishing
badge of your trade or profession, though sometimes a man has

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 145

his profession written all over him. Do not carry a book or
journal, as information can be gleaned from your taste in
literature. Wear no ring, and, if you are married, remove your
wedding ring some days previous to your visit, so that the mark
made by it has had time to disappear.

If you visit the psychic in cold weather and (assuming you
are a man) wear an overcoat, remove everything from the
pockets, and cut off the maker’s tab and your own name which
will be found usually in the inside breast pocket. Do not gossip
with the servant who opens the door to you: just say that you
have an appointment with Madame Z.

There is some difference of opinion as to whether a sitter
should be accompanied by a friend. I consider that he should go
alone. Friends occasionally divulge (unconsciously) considerable
information about a sitter— especially if they happen to be talka-
tive. If you have a secretary who is discreet, silent, and can
be trusted, and if you consider that a witness is necessary, then
you can take your employ^ with you. But it is best to go alone.

Having introduced yourself as ‘X’, take the chair offered you,
sit down, and he silent. Let the medium do all the talking, but
take full and careful notes of everything she says. Do not ask
questions, and do not prompt the medium. Although she may
be in a trance — real or alleged — she will probably ask you cer-
tain questions, or pause in her recital, waiting for some reply.
Do not speak, if possible. If she insists upon asking you ques-
tions, reply that you would rather not answer. If she is ‘con-
trolled’ by a ‘spirit guide’ (often a child or a Red Indian) who
insists upon holding a conversation with you, be pleasant and
laugh at the controlling entity’s inevitable jokes, but do not
answer direct questions.

There is one exception to the rule of silence which I have
emphasised above. Sometimes a ‘communicator’ will manifest
through the entranced medium and his— or her — remarks may
be of such a nature that it is impossible to continue the stance

146 How to Test a Medium

without some reply from yoursel£ For example, die ‘spirit*
may announce itself as your ‘uncle Bert* and pause for your
reaction. It is permissible for you to try and prove that some
relative is communicating, and your questions and the com-
municator’s replies will then be something like this:

Comm. I am uncle Bert.

Sitt. When did you die?

Comm. In the autumn of 1917, in France.

Sitt. Where?

Comm. AtYpres.

Sitt. How old were you?

Comm. Forty-three.

Sitt. Where were you buned?

Comm. In France.

Sitt. Where?

Comm. [Reply unintelligible.]

Sitt. Had you any brothers or sisters?

Comm. Three.

Sitt. What were their names?

Comm. Annie, Peter and Tom.

Sitt. Where were you bom?

Comm. In the North.

Sitt. What town?

Comm. Near Liverpool.

Sitt. Where?

Comm. [Reply unintelligible.]

Sitt. Were you related on my mother’s or father’s side?

Comm. Your father’s brother.

Sitt. What was my father’s foil name?

Comm. [No reply.]

Medium. Your uncle appears to have gone, and another com-
municator wishes to speak.

The above is a good example of how a conversation between

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 147

a communicating entity and sitter should be conducted It will
be noted that the spirit made certain definite statements, capable
of being checked, but avoided direct questions. It is more than
probable that you never had an uncle Bert, and possibly no
relative killed in the War. But you may have had an aunt
Annie and perhaps some relatives who once lived ‘near liver-
pool’. These few ‘hits’ are not very impressive, as many thou-
sands of persons possess an aunt Annie and a million people hve
near Liverpool But you go home wondering (having paid the
medium’s fee in cash) and decide to have another guinea’s worth
at a future date when — I hope — you will be just as cautious.
Although I have selected a visit to a clairvoyant or trance
medium as the model way of going to a medium, my rules are
equally as good when applied to a crystal gazer or automatic
writer. In die case of the latter, the automaost will present you
with her script, and you will not have to take so many notes.
But be sure and carefully record what the medium asks, and
compare these notes with the automatic script when you get
home. By the way, do not gossip with the medium after the
stance. Leave the house at once.

I have now told you what you owe yourself in going to a
stance, but you should also be fair to the medium. Whether the
psychic is false or genuine, you should visit her in a spirit of
hopefulness and goodwill. Do not try to mislead her by making
untrue statements; do not try to catch her out by asking ques-
tions to which you are certain you will receive untrue answers.
Be courteous and play the game. And, although convinced
that the stance was a swindle from start to finish, pay your
guinea with a smile: you will have received a guinea’s worth of
experience, anyway. If the medium happens to be genuine, any
bad behaviour on your part will most certainly spoil the sitting
for you, and you may miss some first-class evidence. There is a
psychological factor which plays its part in a good stance. If you
are sceptical, do not parade the fra: the person who exudes

148 How to Test a Medium

scepticism will never get very far in psychical research. And if

you see something suspicious at a sitting, don’t grab.

So far, I have told you what to do when testing a medium at
a private sitting. But if you go to a ‘circle’ or meeting for
public clairvoyance, the same rules hold good except that it is
very unlikely that you will be permitted to impose any condi-
tions. At a circle, the medium often has one or two credulous
favourites who monopolise the attention of the communicating
entities, and the casual visitor stands little chance of acquiring
‘evidence’. And the ‘circle’ has other disadvantages. The clair-
voyante will perhaps say: ‘I see a lady m black, middle-aged,
white hair, passed over about fourteen yean ago. I get the name
Mary.’ In a largish circle, at least three or four sitters will claim
the ‘entity’ as some relative, and I have been present when there
has been unseemly wrangling as to whom the entity belonged.
Public clairvoyance is even more unsatisfactory. On one occa-
sion I attended a public meeting at Brighton and the clair-
voyante gave us a description (which was so ambiguous that it
could have been applied to a hundred different persons) of a
man whose earth name sounded like ‘Jaber’ (that is what I
thought the medium said). Immediately, about forty persons
in the large hall claimed the entity as a relative. The medium
was in a quandary as to whom to ‘award’ the entity, and finally
gave it up as a bad job. I spoke to two of those who had
claimed the spirit. One man told me he thought the medium
said ‘Draper’; a young woman was quite certain that the clair-
voyante said ‘Jago’, because an uncle of that name had died
some years previously. The name Jaber sounds like so many
other surnames {e.g. Faber, Favor, Mavor, Neighbour, etc.)
dial the ‘test’ was valueless. And yet the medium hailed it as a
great success. And if such a result is possible with an uncommon
name like ‘Jaber’, is it any wonder that ‘spirits’ with such com-
mon names as Smith, Jones and Robinson claim so many
excited and credulous ‘relatives’ at public clairvoyance meet-

149

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

ings? These meetings are worthless from an evidential point of
view, but they are useful for putting money in the pockets of
the mediums.

We now come to physical phenomena, and I am speaking
from experience when I state that, if the reader has witnessed
such phenomena at a dance, it is a thousand to one that they
were fraudulent. Genuine manifestations of this nature are ex-
cessively rare and it is most unlikely that the casual inquirer will
ever see them: he will see plenty of spurious phenomena. But
we will assume that the reader has the opportunity of testing a
physical medium, and I will now give a few directions for safe-
guarding him as far as possible. I have already stated that
physical phenomena include ‘apports’, telekinesis, materialisa-
tions, lights, levitation, slate-wnting, spirit photographs, raps,
etc., and during the production of any of these manifestations
it is of vital importance that the medium be rigidly controlled
— a problem of great difficulty.

In the first place, nearly every physical medium insists on
Stygian darkness in which to ‘work’, and much music, singing
and other noises to help him produce the right ‘atmosphere’,
and an easy entry into the trance state. Unfortunately, the con-
ditions he usually demands are the very worst for the investi-
gator, as the two senses most necessary for the inquiry, i.e. sight
and hearing, are rendered useless. So, for a first condition, ask
the medium if he will sit in a white light. He will refuse and
most likely compromise by agreeing to a ‘good red light’,
which will most certainly be reduced to blackness a few min-
utes after the dance has started. Curiously enough, two of the
most impressive physical mediums, D. D. Home1 and Anna
Rasmussen,1 ‘worked’ in full light.

1See Experiences in Spiritualism with D. D. Home, by Viscount A dare,
London, 1870.

*See ‘Experimental Inquiries into Telekinesis. An Account of Experiments
Made with die Mediumship of Mrs. Anna Rasmussen', by Christian Wmtfaer,

i$o How to Test a Medium

Having settled the lighting arrangements (invariably to the
medium’s satisfaction, and seldom to the investigator’s), there
comes the question of the control of the medium’s person.
There are four principal ways of immobilising a medium: (a)
tactual control; ( b ) a mechanical or electrical control; (c) by
placing him in a gauze ‘cage’ or cabinet, or gauze bag; (J) a
photographic control. Of course, the idea of a rigid control is
to prevent the medium doing by normal means what he states he
— or the spirits— can do abnormally. Clearly, he must be given
no opportunity for producing fraudulent phenomena, either
consciously, unconsciously, or subconsciously. On no account
allow yourself to be persuaded to consent to his being tied up
with a rope. It is impossible to tic a person securely with one
piece of rope, and you will be asking for trickery.1

The tactual method of control is a good one if thoroughly
and conscientiously carried out. Two trusted, intelligent,
youngish and alert persons should sit on either side of the
medium, each controller being responsible for an arm and a
leg.* The controller on the right of the medium should link his
left arm through the medium’s right arm, and the controller’s
right hand should firmly grasp the right wrist and hand of the
psychic. The controller should then curl his left leg round the
right leg of the medium, keeping firm and continuous contact.
The person on the medium’s left should control his side m a
similar manner. This is a very pleasant and comfortable method
of control for all concerned, and one can sit for hours without
becoming cramped or feeling tired. It is probable that during

New York, 1928 (in Psychic Research, VoL XXII, Nos. i-j, Jan.-May) ; and
Leaves from a Psychist’s Case-Book, by Harry Price, London (Gollancz), 1933,

pp. 154-65-

1See Magical Rope Ties and Escapes, by Harry Houdini ( i.e . Fhnrh Weiss),
London [1921].

*S ee Leaves from a Psychist’s Case-Book, by Harry Price, op. cit. Plate I is a
photograph showing the control of Willi Schneider by two persons. The
method is a variant of that given in this chapter.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 151

the stance die medium will, in the trance paroxysms, attempt
to shift his limbs or even remove them from control. This is
met by each controller recording the exact position of each limb
every minute or so, or even every few seconds. All this infor-
mation is taken down in shorthand (or repeated into a dicta-
phone) by the note-taker. Selecting our right-hand controller,
he would call out something like the following, the note-taker
adding the times:

9.33 Right hand on chest.

9.33I Right hand on knee.

9.34 Right leg forward, out of control.

9.34^ Right leg in control again.

9.35 Head on breast.

9.36 Right hand on face.

9.36$ Right hand on knee.

9.3 7 Medium standing up, leg out of control.

9.3 8 J Medium on chair again.

9.39 Right leg in control again.

9.40 Medium scratching his face.

The person controlling the left side of medium would be
calling out similar information, which would also be recorded
by the note-taker. It will be understood that the controllers’
hands naturally follow the movements of the medium’s hands,
and are still keeping their grip on his wrists. If a controller’s
hand or leg loses contact with the medium, the control is defin-
itely broken, and is so recorded in the protocol. Should pheno-
mena occur during the stance, the official observer calls out
what they are, their intensity and duration, and the note-taker
duly records these facts, adding the exact time that each pheno-
menon occurs. By comparing the times of phenomena with the
controllers’ record it is easy to see whether the manifestations
took place while the medium was under proper control. With
this form of control, it is better to have two note-takers, one to

152 How to Test a Medium

record exclusively the remarks of the controllers, die other to
register die phenomena. The note-takers should have two
watches which are exactly synchronised, and the two records
should be compared at the end of the stance. If one set of notes
showed that at 9.53 ‘lights’ were seen, and the other that at 9.53
the medium’s left hand was out of control, obviously the
phenomenon would not be recorded in the subsequent report as
being considered of supernormal origin. I mentioned the ex-
ample of the ‘light’, but actually these can be produced by
means of the mouth.

The tactual control described above is suitable for most me-
diums producing telekinesis, ‘apports’, ‘spirit lights’, material-
isations, etc., though special precautions — to be described later
— are necessary when investigating certain types of physical
phenomena. But the electrical control is also very good, and for
details of this system (first used by Schrenck-Notzmg and
developed by the present writer) I must refer the reader to my
experiments with Rudi Schneider, where the control is ex-
plained in detail1 Of the two, the electrical control is the more
satisfactory.

The ‘gauze cage’ method of controlling a medium is as
simple as it is efficient when apphed to those psychics who
produce materialisations, ‘apports’, or telekinesis. The cage
should be strongly constructed of wood and large enough to
contain the medium, comfortably seated. Hie top and bottom
should be solid, with strong, fine gauze or bolting-doth sides.
The material should be glued to the framework of the ‘cage’
and thin strips of wood should further secure the edges. On one
side of the cage should be hung a door (framework covered
with gauze) with two locks and two bolts (top and bottom), all
fastenings being outside. The medium is comfortably seated in
the ‘cage’ and all he has to do is to produce the phenomena.

1See Rudi Schneider : a Scientific Examination of His Mediumship, by Harry
Price, London (Methuen), 1930, pp. 7-11.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 153

Some years ago I invented a fraud-proof ‘cage-table’,1 which
answers the same purpose, and which we used with some

But the best method of all is the photographic control,
assuming fhar the medium still insists upon sitting in the dark.
The photographic control is simply a cinematographic record
of a stance. Invisible infra-red rays are used as the illuminant and
a cinematographic negative stock, sensitive to the infra-red, is
employed in the camera. The medium need not be held at all, as
a continuous picture of the psychic is being produced during
the whole of the stance with, perhaps, a photographic record of
the phenomena, if any. Unfortunately, the photographic con-
trol has not yet reached perfection, owing to technical difficul-
ties. It is possible to take infra-red time exposures m the dark; it
is possible to take short exposures in a dull light; but it is not yet
possible to produce a fully-exposed film of a stance in complete
darkness, though we are nearing our goal. When we reach it,
the day of the fraudulent medium will be over. He can sit in the
complete blackness which he invariably demands, but his every
action will be recorded photographically, without quibble or
question, by means of a slow-motion cinematograph camera.

We will now assume that you have had your first stance with
a physical medium (it does not follow that he is genuine be-
cause he takes no money for his services) and are impressed with
what you have seen and heard: you arrange for further experi-
ments. Although you consider that your control of die psychic
was good, it can be improved upon — by means of the fore-
control, i.e. the examination of the medium before he even
enters the stance-room. If he has been producing telekinesis,
‘apports’, ‘lights’, or materialisations, it is possible that a piece of
apparatus or some chemical has been introduced surreptitiously

1See ‘A Stance Table for the Study of Telekmens’, by Harry Price, an
article in Psychic Research, Vol. XXII, No. 6, June 1928. Photograph* are
given in Leaves from a Psychin' s Case-Book, by Harry Price, op. cit., Plate XL

154 How to Test a Medium

into die stance- room. The fore-control is to prevent that sort of
thing, and this is the procedure:

When the medium arrives at your house (it is a waste of
time to attend sittings for physical phenomena at the medium’s
own home, or to attempt to investigate physical mediums at
public stances), escort him into a room on the street level,
assuming that the sitting is to be held in an upper apartment.
Whether your medium is a man or a woman, have two medical
men in attendance as searchers, and let them strip and thor-
oughly search the medium, removing all clothes to another
apartment. Women are no good for this job as they are too
sympathetic and emotional, more easily deceived, and have less
knowledge of deceptive methods. The medium should now
be thoroughly medically examined, all body orifices being ex-
plored. (This is particularly important where ‘spirit lights’ are
concerned.) If the medium is a woman and she is genuine, she
will not mind a medical man making this very necessary exami-
nation in the cause of science; if the woman is a faker, and has
something to hide, she will protest loudly against the ‘indeli-
cacy’ of the proceedings. If she refuses to be examined, cancel
the stance and send her home. If the weather is hot, she will
probably be seen on the beach the next day, exposing nine-
tenths of her person to the public gaze.

It may be thought that a stria medical examination of a
physical medium is quite unnecessary and that a simple search
is all that is required. But experience tells us that one cannot
examine a medium too closely. In the case of Pasquale Erto, the
Neapolitan ‘rainbow man’, even a stria medical examination
failed to reveal the hiding-places of the tiny bits of material
with which he produced his famous ‘psychic lights’.1 It was a

1See: *Pb£nomines lununeux mddits obtains avec le medium Erto’, by
L. R. Sanguinetd, and *Les Experience* de GSnes avec le medium Erto', by
W. Mackenzie, two articles in die Revue Miteptychique, Pans, for Nov.-Dee
192 a. Also the same journal for May-Jane, and July-August 1924 for experi-
ments by Dr. Gustave Geley. See also L' Opinion (Paris) for May 23 ana 30,

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 1 55

series of accidents that put the investigators on the right scent.
And it was never discovered how another ‘luminous medium’,
Janusz Fronczek,1 produced his ‘lights’, which emanated from
the mouth. But it was proved that he was responsible for other
spurious physical phenomena, and there was no reason why the
‘lights’ should have been genuine. Even the severe gynecolo-
gical examination to which Mrs. Helen Duncan submitted her-
self failed to reveal the hidden masses of cheese-cloth with
which her ‘spooks’ were manufactured, and it was not until I
used die X-rays on her that we finally solved the problem as to
where she kept the stuff.1 The most difficult part of a person to
explore is the stomach: nothing short of a stomach pump,
stomach camera or an emetic will reveal its hidden ‘treasures’
in the way of ‘apports’, etc., which can be regurgitated at will.

Those who consider that a stria examination of a psychic is
unnecessary should read the highly diverting history of the
‘Flower Medium’. About eighteen months ago (I am writing in
September 1935) a young woman typist announced to a credu-
lous world that she had the faculty of materialising roses and
other blooms in full light. Now this was a psychic novelty
which whetted the appetites of jaded phenomena-hunters and
there was a scramble to obtain sittings with her. One society
after another ‘investigated’ her, without apparendy finding
anything suspicious. The young woman was paraded before
distinguished scientists, who, of course, were not allowed to
impose their own conditions: they were merely invited to
watch the miracle. A Sunday newspaper8 published a non-
committal article (sufficient to damn any other person but a

1924. For the London experiments with Erto, see Leaves from a Psychist’s
Case-Book, by Harry Price, op. cit., pp. 3 54-76.

1See Proceedings, London S.P.R., Jan. 1926 (Part 97, VoL XXXVI).

•See Regurgitation and the Duncan Medhtmship, by Harry Price, London,
1931. Bulletin /of die National Laboratory ofPsychual Research

•See ’Girl Medium Baffles All die Scientists’, m the Sunday Dispatch for
Mar. 24, 1935.

156 How to Test a Medium

medium) concerning her, with some excellent photographs of
die ‘bulge’ under her bathing costume, showing die ‘formation’
of die ‘materialised’ blooms. As a matter of routine I applied,
through a friend, for a sitting with her. My friend was in-
formed that I would not be given a stance, and would not be
allowed in any house where a sitting was being held. I felt
flattered. To think that I was the only person in England who
could not see the flowers ‘materialise’ was indeed a compliment
— all the greater, because the ‘Flower Medium’s’ devotees were
running after the scientists in order to obtain their cachet.

Though I could not obtain a sitting myself, a number of my
friends had stances, and from them I received accounts of how
die proceedings were conducted. The young woman (who in-
variably brought a suitcase with her) was conducted to a bed-
room where she removed her ordinary clothes and donned a
bathing suit and a short coatee. During this undressing business
she was supposed to be examined by two women searchers. I
never heard of a man being invited to assist. Though it takes an
ordinary woman about three minutes to change her clothes,
the ‘Flower Medium’ was sometimes an hour in getting into
her bathing costume, having to ‘rest’ every few minutes. At
last, when all was ready, she would be conducted to the stance-
room, where, after a few minutes m which to go into ‘trance’,
it would be noticed that a ‘bulge’ was forming m the small of
her back. The ‘bulge’ would then travel to the front of her,
finally dropping into her lap in the form of roses (always with-
out thorns), complete with ‘dew’. There was usually a rose for
each person, except when Scots were present, when heather was
— very appropriately — produced for them.

These proceedings were so silly, and so fantastic, that, one
would have thought, a child could not have been deceived. But
people flocked to her and her doings filled the psychic press. Of
course, a number of people began to get suspicious (!) and a
friend of mine, Mrs. A. Peel Goldney , actually discovered some

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 1 57

of the roses in the medium’s bag after a stance. At last, on
August 9, 193 s, the farce ended. A group of spiritualists were
investigating her and discovered that, when she was changing
into her bathing dress, roses were dropping all over the room!
Then they found some more between her legs, and the woman
finally confessed1 that she had purchased the roses at a shop.
The psychic Press made much of the fact that it was the spirit-
ualists who exposed’ her — for the simple reason that no expert
psychical researcher was allowed to do so. Remarkable as
this case is as an example of credulity, it had a still more re-
markable sequel. Immediately the woman’s written confession
was published, it was announced2 that eight months previously
the spiritualists had put detectives on her track, and she had been
seen buying roses at various shops. But it was only when the
‘Flower Medium’ was finally exposed that these vital facts
were published. I am afraid I have digressed, but the case of the
‘Flower Medium’ is so important as showing how not to do
things. A scientific psychical researcher would have burst the
bubble at the first stance .*

To continue, assuming that the medium has submitted to a
thorough medical examination, he — or she — should be asked to

1See The “Flower Medium’s” Confession’, by F. N. C. Bell, in Light
(London) for Aug. 15, 1935, and The “Flower Medium” Exposed:
Spiritualists Unmask a Blatant Fraud’, in The Two Worlds (Manchester) for
Aug. 1 6, 1935.

*See The “Flower Medium’s” Career’, by Mrs. Hewar McKenzie, m
Light for Aug. 22, 1935, and ‘ “Flower Medium”: More Facts’, also by Mrs.
Hewat McKenzie, m The Two Worlds for Aug. 23, 193$.

*As this work goes to press, I can record that I have attended a stance with
die ’Flower Medium’ — at a cocktail party ! I was not permitted to take any
part m the control (or fere-control) of the medium, who, before about
thirty people, and in fell light, produced five common thornless roses, with
stems cut with a knife, from under her coat Later m die evening I had a
private stance with her (in die dark) for ‘psychic lights’ (not produced)
which turned to ‘apports’ in the shape of a handful of shingle found under a
cushion. As she had been in the room for two hours previous to my sitting,
the portion of sea-shore cannot be regarded as having arrived supernor-
mal^. Hus was on October 9, 193 S-

158 How to Test a Medium

don a one-piece tricot suit or tights, buttoning at the bade,
supplied by the experimenters. To die ends of sleeves and legs
of the tights should be sewn bands covered with luminous
paint.1 A warm dressing-gown (without pockets) should now
be wrapped round the medium, who should be escorted up-
stairs to the stance-room by the two doctors, each holding an
arm. If the sitting is held in a flat, the room where the medium
is examined and the stance-room should be as far apart as
possible. The medium having been led into the stance-room, he
should be handed over to the two controllers (if the tactual
method is used), immobilised by the electrical system, or placed
in the ‘cage’ immediately.

I have said a good deal about the medium, but the choice of
sitters is also important. Choose your assistants carefully. Re-
fuse to work with a person who is ultra-credulous or obstin-
ately incredulous. Select people you can trust: those who will
not interfere with your arrangements or the medium. The
ideal sitter is he who is thoroughly interested in psychical re-
search, is sympathetic to the medium, but who insists upon
scientific methods of investigation. Do not allow any sitter to
‘manage’ the stance for you. Bar those who keep on ‘inter-
fering’ or think they know more than you do. Invite sugges-
tions, but use your own judgment as to whether you shall act
upon them. Do not form too large a circle (which should link
hands — chain formation — during a stance ; seven or eight is a
good number), and introduce two or three women sitters — but
not those likely to shriek or scream when a ‘psychic hand’
(probably a white glove stuffed with damp cotton wool)
brushes their face. And do not admit talkative women, as they
distract the aide and make observation difficult. But the right
kind of woman at a stance is an asset, and has a good influence

1See ‘Radio-Active Compound* and Their Use in Psychical Research’, by
Harry Price, New York, 1926 (an article m the Journal of the American
S.P.R., VoL XX, No. 7, July).

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 159

— psychologically — on the male medium, especially if he is
young. And two or three women at a sitting help to make
those harmonious conditions so necessary for die production of
good phenomena.

There is one person you should not admit to the stance, if you
can possibly help it. That person is the medium’s ‘manager’,
‘secretary’, ‘patron’, or ‘next friend’ — or whatever the name he
goes under. It is difficult enough to control the medium him-
self, without having to look after two persons. In the case of a
fraudulent medium, it is often the manager who produces die
‘phenomena’, as he gets a better chance of ‘putting over’ the
entertainment, and is not usually suspected — by the credulous.
If the medium will not sit without the person who is ‘running’
him, see that the latter is placed between two sitters you can
trust, as far away from the medium as possible. The ‘manager’
wants as much looking after — often more — than the psychic
himsrlf-

Some people, with the best intentions in the world, make bad
sitters. It is just possible that the investigator himself is totally
unfitted to examine a medium, or take charge of a stance. His
personality may clash with that of every medium with whom
he comes in contact. It is no one’s fruit, but the sooner he
realises it, and quits psychical research, the better. He is merely
wasting his tune.

I have now told the reader how to test a medium,1 but there
arc certain types of phenomena for which special controlling
conditions are required: I will commence with ‘apports’.

There is no good evidence that an ‘apport’ has ever appeared
in a stance-room or elsewhere. But if you think that your parti-
cular medium is producing them, the severe fore-control that
you imposed on the psychic must be extended to the sitters
themselves. Assuming that flowers, pebbles, or small mammals

xAn excellent little work for die prospective investigator is. How to Go
to a Medium, by E. J. Dingwall, London, 1927.

160 How to Test a Medium

have been ‘supemormaUy’ introduced into the fiance-room
(spiritualist literature is full of such cases), your next sitting
must be held in a room absolutely devoid of anything in die
way of furniture except the few wooden chairs on which the
circle sits. All hangings, carpets and ornaments must be re-
moved, and chimney stopped up. Keyhole must be plugged,
windows sealed, and door locked and bolted from the outside.
Every person taking part in the stance must remove his clothes,
which should be searched and examined by two persons
(strangers to all present) who are not taking part in the pro-
ceedings. When a sitter has been searched, he is permitted to
dress, under supervision, and is taken to the stance- room and
the key turned on him. When all have been examined and have
donned their clothes, the medium (having been previously
examined by the doctors) should be led into the stance-room
and the door finally locked and bolted. No one who took part
in the examination of sitters or medium should be allowed m
the stance-room. If this fore-control was rigidly imposed on all
who took part in the sitting, and ‘apports’ were still produced,
I should much like to have particulars of the stance. Though
collusion could still account for the phenomena, the chances of
fraud were much lessened, and there is a prim# facie case for
further scientific investigation.

‘Materialising mediums’ are few and far between; but there
are still a few ‘working’, though the evidence for ‘materialisa-
tions’ is poor. Any medium producing ‘full-forms’ or ‘pseudo-
pods’ should be subjected to a rigid fore-control, previous to
the tactual, electrical, or gauze cage controlling system em-
ployed at the sitting itself. A good substitute for the gauze cage
is a gauze bag, into which the medium is sewn. But the job
must be done thoroughly. If materialisations arc produced
under your own conditions and while the medium is in the bag,
there is evidence that further experiments are worth while.

The most famous materialisations recorded in the annals of

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 161

psychical research were those produced through the medium-
ship of Miss Florrie Cook in the presence of Sir William
Crookes. During the years 1873-4 Sir William held many
stances with Miss Cook, then aged eighteen, and announced to
his scientific brethren that he had obtained ‘absolute proof1 of
spirit materialisation. The spirit was ‘Katie King’, the daughter
of ‘John King’, alleged to have been a pirate. Katie materialised
in Sir William’s study on many occasions and in one week no
fewer than forty-four photographs of the spirit were obtained,
with the electric light as an illummant. Five cameras were used,
and the materialised form was photographed from different
angles. Many times both medium and spirit were seen together,
‘under the full blaze of the electnc light’, and they were photo-
graphed together on one occasion. Sir William also embraced the
spint on March 29, 1874: ‘On several occasions she [Katie] took
my arm when walking, and the impression conveyed to my
mind that it was a living woman by my side, instead of a visitor
from the other world, was so strong that ... I asked her permis-
sion to clasp her in my arms. . . . Permission was graciously
given, and I accordingly did — well, as any gentleman would do
under the circumstances.’* Both ‘Katie’ and Home Cook were
good-looking girls. Copies of Sir William's photographs are
extant, but the negatives have disappeared. Sir William’s ex-
periments with Florrie Cook are one of the major mysteries of
psychical research. I am afraid that I must inform the reader that
at a stance on January 9, 1880, Florrie Cook was seized by Sir
George Sitwell, and was found to be dressed only in her under-
clothes, masquerading as a spirit. Of course, this incident does
not necessarily prove that Florrie cheated during the Crookes
experiments.

It is a bold medium who produces materialisations to-day,
and this particular phase of mediumship has always attracted

1See Researches in the Phenomena of Spiritualism, by Sir William Crookes,
F.R.S., London [1874], p. 104. lIbid. p. 106.

1 62 How to Test a Medium

die fakers — some very clever. Even William T. Stead (1849-
1912), the famous and credulous spiritualist, did not believe in
materialising mediums. By the merest chance, I have just come
into possession of a letter written by him in 1895. It was found
in a bundle of second-hand books which a friend recently pur-
chased in Dundee. He kindly presented it to me. The letter is
typed upon the Review of Reviews printed memo-form, and is
hauled ‘Mowbray House, Norfolk Street, Strand, London,
W.C.’ The letter is addressed to ‘Mr. J. M. Nicholl, 7, Sey-
mour Place, Paradise Road, Dundee’. It is dated October 8,
1895. This is the letter:

‘Dear Mr. Nicholl,

I cannot recommend you to any materialising medium,
nor do I think that materialisation is by any means die best
form of manifestation. It is the one most open to imposture,
and my experience is that materialising spirits never say any-
thing worth listening to. You had better experiment with the
Ouija in that way if any of your circle is at all mediumistic.
You will get much better results than by searching for materi-
alising mediums.

Iam,

Yours truly,

(Signed) W. T. Stead.’

Really, I could not have written a better letter myself, and I
do not know what the spiritualists will think of it, as, forty
years ago, there were several well-known materialising me-
diums at work. I suggest to die reader that he takes Stead’s
advice.

Slate-writing stances are usually held in the light, and are
rarely heard of in this country. A few yean ago I had a sitting
with the famous Mrs. Pruden, die American slate- writer,
which was quite unsatisfactory.1 As there are hundreds of ways
1See Lava from a Psychist's Case-Book, op. dt., pp. 321-30.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 163

of getting ‘spirit messages’ on slates, locked and unlocked, it is
impossible for me even to begin to tell the reader what to do. I
recommend him to study the subject m the many conjuring
books devoted to ‘slate-writing’.1

‘Spirit lights’ are frequently seen at public stances, and semi-
public circles, but not often experimentally at a private sitting.
In addition to the rigid fore-control, and stance control, the
medium’s mouth, teeth, etc., should be specially examined.
Tiny bits of ferro-cerium (the ‘flint’ you put in your pocket
lighter) should be looked for. The medium should be asked to
take a hot bath in the presence of the medical men, and his hair
should be thoroughly washed. Tiny pieces of chemicals, etc.,
are easily secreted in the body orifices and, in a man, under the
prepuce.* During the stance itself, the medium’s hands and
fingers should be specially controlled.

Telekinetic phenomena are imitated fraudulently by means
of simple pieces of apparatus such as wires, thin rods, horse-
hairs, telescopic reaching-rods, the hands, feet— and confeder-
ates. A thorough fore- and s&mce-control should prevent
apparatus being introduced into the stance-room, and confed-
eracy can be made difficult by excluding the medium’s
friends and having fresh sitters at each experiment. There is
fairly good evidence for telekinetic phenomena.*

‘Raps’ are difficult to locate, and still more difficult to
idenufy. There is good evidence for supernormal raps. The
medium alleged to be responsible for psychic raps should be put
under a good tactual control, and a small table (such as a coffee
table) should be placed m front of him. He — or his ‘guide’ —
should be asked to produce raps on the table. If successful, the
table should be moved still farther from him, and further raps
1See Spirit Slate Writing and Kindred Phenomena, by William Ellsworth
Robinson f Chung Lmg Soo’), New York and London, 1899.

■See Leaves from a Psychist’s Case-Book, op. tit., p. 358.

■See Rudi Schneider: a Sdenttfic Examination of His Medbtmship, by Harry
Price, op. ol.

164 How to Test a Medium

requested. If raps still continue in— or on — the table, various
combinations of raps (such as rap-rap-pause-rap, rap-pause-
rap-pause, and so on) should be asked for. If raps are still con-
tinued under really stringent control, the case should be re-
ported to a psychic laboratory where instruments are to be
found for recording the raps, determining where the raps come
from, their intensity, etc. It is extremely difficult to locate a
slight noise in the dark, and what you think is a supernormal
rap on the table is very likely a normal rap (caused by wind,
wood shrinking, etc.) on a window frame or chair.

‘Teleplasm’ or ‘ectoplasm’ are purely conventional and arbi-
trary terms for a very elusive substance. We think it has been
produced at stances, but there is no scientific evidence that such
is the case. It has never been collected or analysed, though
specimens of alleged teleplasm have been secured: they turned
out to be composed of white of egg, wood pulp, toilet paper,
and other normal substances.1 There is no rule by which we can
tell teleplasm when we see it, though it is supposed to be the
stuff of which ‘materialisations’, pseudopods, etc., are made.
There is no evidence that it has anything to do with spirits.
Should ‘teleplasm’ be secured at a stance, place in a bottle of ab-
solute alcohol, and ask an analyst to examine it.

Trumpet phenomena are popular manifestations with a large
class of mediums, who are called ‘trumpet mediums’ or ‘direct
voice mediums’. A trumpet medium invariably sits m com-
plete darkness, is seldom controlled in any way, and does not
usually go into trance. Consequently, a trumpet or direct voice
stance is always a very unsatisfactory affair. If you are testing a
trumpet medium, try to persuade him — or her — to allow some
sort of control of his person, his mouth,* or his trumpet. There

1Sce Regurgitation and the Duncan Mediumship, by Harry Price, op. at.,
p. 78, and Appendix A, pp. 87-95.

•The author invented an electrical ‘voice control recorder’ which im-
mobilised a medium's mouth; it can be seen at the laboratory of die Univer-
sity of London Council for Psychical Investigation.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 165

is practically no good evidence for the direct voice; conversely,
many trumpet mediums have been proved to be blatant frauds.
Remember that it is what a trumpet medium says, and not
what he does, that is important. As regards your own behaviour
at a trumpet stance, my remarks upon going to a clairvoyante
should be taken to heart. I have never yet seen a trumpet
medium whom I did not consider an utter fraud. The last
time I sat with a direct voice medium, the levitated trumpet
accidentally swung towards me and my hand severely knocked
the knuckles of the ‘spirit hand’ that was sustaining the
trumpet. The trumpet dropped to the floor, and the medium
swooned — but fifteen minutes later he had recovered sufficiently
to collect our seven-and-sixpences as we went out.

Haunted houses, phantasms and Poltergeists should be inves-
tigated scientifically. Before you visit the scene of an alleged
haunt, obtain the fullest evidence from as many persons as
possible as to what has been seen or heard at the house. On
their reports you can decide whether the place is worth investi-
gating. If you decide to inquire into the case, take someone
with you, and make further inquiries on the spot. If you still
think it worth while to continue, ascertain exactly what the
phenomena are, where and when seen (especially the exact
days and times), and make your plans accordingly. If the
phenomena occur inside the building, assemble all inmates in
one room under the guard of your assistant, thoroughly ex-
plore the house, and make a plan of it. Seal all doors, windows
and other openings in the way I have suggested m my account
of the ‘most haunted house in England’, and await events. If
the manifestations occur only in the dark, you will have to
invent some sort of electric or mechanical control in order to
ascertain whether supernormal happenings take place. For
example, if it is alleged that ‘doors open by themselves’ (a com-
mon claim) it is easy to devise a simple electric bell contact
which will immediately inform you if the door has been

1 66

How to Test a Medium

opened by somebody or something not under your control Of
course, it might be the wind ! In investigating a haunted house,
be on the look-out for rats, small boys, the villagers, the owner
himself (or his family), the wind (especially in an old house),
wood shrinking, the death-watch beetle, farm animals nosing
the doors, etc., trees brushing against the windows, birds in the
chimney-stack or between double walls, etc., etc. It is more
difficult to investigate an extenor haunt, as more helpers are
required and it is not easy to keep everyone in the neighbour-
hood under constant controL It often becomes a battle of wits
with the villagers. But the remarks I made concerning an
interior haunt can be applied to manifestations outside the
house. If you are impressed with what you have seen and
heard, visit the place again and again, taking copious notes and
piling up data. Prepare a report and send it to an expert
psychical researcher or to some organisation specially equipped
to deal with such phases of the occult.

Psychic photography has become suddenly fashionable, and
there is so much to be said concerning the gentle art of faking
that I have devoted an entire chapter to the subject. Read it
carefully.

Having now told the reader how to test a medium, I hope he
will not depart from the rigid standard of control which I sug-
gested to him. I have said little about the use of instruments, as
the person who wants advice about testing a medium is not
likely to be connected with a psychic laboratory, or to know
how to use suitable instruments — even if he possesses them — in
a proper way. If he finds a really good medium, and one who
will submit to a rigid control it is his duty to send a report of
the case (with the protocol of his experiments) to a scientific
organisation, such as the University of London Council for
Psychical Investigation, and secure expert help and advice.
The amateur cannot possibly investigate such phenomena as
thermal changes in the stance-room, the cold breezes which are

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 167

so often recorded, and similar phenomena. And yet these
identical manifestations may occur at his experiments 'without
his being aware of the fact. If he does find a first-class medium,
it is his duty to give science a chance of doing something with
him. And I implore the reader not to hand him over to the
spiritualists— even to those masquerading as a scientific society
with a high-sounding title. I have no quarrel with the spiritual-
ists, but the fact that they are a religious body makes them
quite unsuitable for scientifically testing a medium— particu-
larly one who produces physical phenomena.

XI. Secrets of ‘Spirit* Photography

early every ‘spirit photographer’ who has ‘operated’
X M during the past fifty years has been exposed. Some have
been prosecuted, a few imprisoned. William H. Mumler,1 a
Boston (Mass.) engraver, was the pioneer: it was proved that
some of his spirit ‘extras’ (the technical name for the alleged
supernormal pictures which appear on the negative) were those
of living men, and even the spiritualists had to disown him. He
was later (1868) prosecuted A French imitator, Edouard
Buguet,* was prosecuted, fined, and imprisoned (Paris 1876)
for cheating the public by taking fraudulent spirit photographs.
Richard Boursnell* (1832-1909), a British photographic me-
dium, was accused of trickery by a famous spiritualist. Admiral
Usbome Moore. David Duguid4 (1832-1907), who produced
both spirit photographs and spirit paintings, was caught cheat-
ing over and over again. One of his ‘extras’, a ‘Cyprian priest-
ess’, was found to be a facsimile of a German picture, Nacht ;•

1See The Mumler 'Spirit' Photograph Case, New York, 1869; Ansichten
fiber die Angebhch Neue Entdeckung von Odognostichen Photographien des Dr.
Wilham H. Mumler zu Boston in Amerika, by Gottlieb Dacmmerung, Wien,
1863.

•See Prods des Spirites, by Madame M. P. G. Leymane, Pan*, 1875; Revue
Spinte, No*. 1-12, Pan*, 1875. For example* of Buguet’* work, *ee Leaves
from a Psychist’s Case-Book, by Harry Price, London, 1933, Plate XVIL

•See Glimpses of the Next State, by William Uibome Moore, London,
1911.

♦See Report of a Siance with David Duguid, by L. W. Taylor, Guildford,
1905. (Unpublished MS. m die library of the University of London Council
for Piychical Investigation.)

•See Encyclopedia of Psychic Science, by Nandor Fodor, London [1934],
article: Duguid, David, p. in.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 169

and once, upon being forcibly searched at Manchester (in
1905), ready-made ‘spirit paintings’ were found down his
trousers. He was then aged seventy-three I1

There have been several modem spirit photographers. The
greatest of them all was William Hope (1863-1933), of the so-
called ‘Crewe Circle’ of photographic mediums. In 1922 1 had a
sitting with him, and caught him changing the dark-slide
containing my plates which had been specially marked for
me by the Imperial Dry Plate Co., Ltd. The markings, a
lion rampant, were — at my suggestion — X-rayed on to each
plate.* Arthur Conan Doyle and his friends abused me for
years for exposing Hope — who was again thoroughly un-
masked* by Mr. Fred Barlow and Major Rampling-Rose in
1932, the year before he (Hope) died.

Soon after the Hope incident I had a sitting with George H.
Moss, a chauffeur-medium who specialised m spirit pictures. I
saw how he tncked me, but said nothing: I was sick to death of
exposing mediums. Later, Mr. Fred Barlow caught him red-
handed, and Moss finally signed a full confession that all his
‘extras’ were produced fraudulently.4

Mrs. Ada Emma Deane is a photographic medium who is
still ‘working’. Years ago, I tried to obtain a sitting with her,
but failed. Then, on Armistice Day 1924, she photographed the
‘spirits’ round the Cenotaph. Prints were circulated, and one
reached the offices of the Daily Sketch. Their photographic staff
copied and enlarged the picture — and they discovered that the
‘extras’ were the heads of living footballers ! It took a week for

1See Encyclopedia of Psychic Science, by Nandor Fodor, London [1934],
article: Duguid, David, p. in.

*See Cold Light on Spiritualistic ‘Phenomena’, by Harry Price, London, 1922,
reprinted from the Journal of the London S.P.R., for May 1922.

*See ‘Report of an Investigation into Spirit-Photography’, by Fred Barlow
and W. Rampling-Rose, Proceedings, London S.P.R., Part 129, March 1933,
and Journal otAeLcasdoa S.P.R. for July 1933.

4Sce Psychic Science, VoL IV, pp. 229-33, London, October 1925.

170 Secrets oj ' Spirit ’ Photography

the Daily Sketch to tell its readers what they thought of Mrs.
Deane’s ‘psychic’ photographs.1

Having failed to get a sitting with Mrs. Deane, I tried the
Falconer brothers, two young Scots who found they were
getting ‘extras’ on their plates. I certainly saw the brothers, but
they informed me, immediately I entered the room, that the
‘power had suddenly left them’. This was on the day before
they sailed for South Africa on a ‘professional’ tour. The
Johannesburg police became suspicious, raided the boys’ flat,
found ‘spirit pictures’ in various stages of manufacture, and
prosecuted them. They were convicted (1931) of producing
fraudulent spirit photographs. Each brother was fined ^150
and costs. They appealed, and lost.2

The last spirit photographer I tried to sit with was John
Myers. We met, but he refused to give me a stance. I offered
him -£25 per hour, one hour’s work per week, for twelve
months, if he would produce a spirit picture in my laboratory
before a panel of scientists (I intended inviting Sir Richard
Gregory, Professor Julian Huxley, etc.) whom I named. He re-
fused.8 What happened to him afterwards can best be read in
die Sunday Dispatch for October 16, 23 and 30, 1932. As I
write these words, Mr. J. B. Mclndoe, the President of the
Spiritualists’ National Union, is levelling a charge of fraud
against him. In a long article, Mr. Mclndoe says:4 ‘I . . . regret

1See die Daily Sketch, London, for Nov. 1 3-22, 1924; Psychic Photography.
Report of die Occult Committee of the Mwic Circle, London, May 1922; Mrs.
Deane, a Cat, and a Catastrophe (unpublished MS. of an experiment, m die
library of die Umverary of London Council for Psychical Investigation),
London 1923.

‘See die complete files of die South African papers reporting die trial and
conviction of the Falconer brothers, in the library of die University of Lon-
don Councd for Psychical Investigation; also Light, London, Oct. 2, 1931,
p.478.

■See Lewes from a Psydust’s Case-Book, by Harry Price, London, 1933,
p. 220.

■See: ‘A Charge of Fraud: Accusations against Mr. John Myers’, by J. B.
Mclndoe, in The Two Worlds for Sept. 6, 193$; also the sam* author s Ex-

171

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

that I have now to give details of an experiment in which the
result, in my opinion, was due to deliberate trickery by Mr.
Myers.’ Hus is strong language for the official head of the
British spiritualists to use.

There have been other exposures of spirit photographers,
including William M. Keeler, the American, who was the
subject of a long and scathing report by the late Dr. Walter
Franklin Prince.1

This chapter is not intended as a history of psychic photo-
graphers, but to give the public some idea as to how the fakers
get the ‘extras’ on to the plates. Unless a person possesses the
knowledge of a chemist, photographer, optician, electrician,
anatomist, physicist, and conjurer, he stands no chance what-
ever against a clever photographic medium, unless he imposes
the control which I will describe later. There are scores of ways
of deceiving the — invariably — credulous seeker after spirit por-
traits, and I am going to tell the reader some of them. No one
has previously written a manual on how spirit pictures are pro-
duced, and very few investigators know the first thing about
trickery as applied to the photographic plate or film.

At the age of eight, I was given my first camera, and a few
yean later produced my first ‘spirit photograph’ — by the still
popular double exposure method. Since those early days I have
made hundreds of experiments in duplicating the tricks of
spirit photographers who prey upon the public, and this chapter
is a risumi of my work. Spirit photography has become sud-
denly fashionable, and nearly every week I receive requests from
people who wish to know how certain psychic photographs
could have been faked. They supply me with so-called ‘evi-
dence’ which is not worth the paper it is written on. As a
penment with Mr. John Myers: a Charge of Trickery’, in Light for Sept. 5,
1933. See aho ‘Myers Exposed Again? Revelations of an Impartial Investiga-
tor’, by Roy Brandon, in The Two Worlds, Oct n, 1935.

1See ‘Supplementary Report on the Keeler-Lee Photographs’, by Walter
Franklin Prince, Proceedings, American S.P.R., VoL Xm, New York, 1919.

1J2 Secrets of * Spirit ’ Photography

matter of fact, there is no good evidence that a spirit photograph
has ever been produced. Having now introduced the reader to
most of the ‘famous’ photographic mediums, past and present,
I will describe the methods by which ‘spirits’ can be added to
the sensitised plate — whether it is supplied by the sitter or the
medium ,

The easiest way of fraudulently producing a ‘spirit extra’
upon the sensitised emulsion of a photographic plate or film is,
undoubtedly, by the method known as ‘double exposure’.
Besides being the least difficult to produce, it is also the easiest
of detection, as it is not very practicable to introduce the
‘extra’ mto the photograph without the knowledge of the
sitter — should he be using his own plates — unless the operator
uses special devices, which will be discussed later.

A psychic ‘extra’ produced by the double exposure method,
if it is to be at all convincing, presupposes the employment of
either a wax lay figure (such as barbers use) or a human being
as the ghostly assistant; unless the photographer makes use of
the old family album, half-tone picture, or an existing photo-
graph of the person whose ‘extra’ is being sought by the sitter.
Moss made most of his fakes by merely copying an existing
photograph or picture; but other men use other methods. When
a sitter is bon&-fide and serious, and brings his own plates, a
certain degree of ingenuity is required in order to make the
experiment convincing.

The production of a psychic photograph made by the
double exposure method is simplicity itself, and well within
the skill of the veriest tyro who ever pressed the button on a
Kodak.

The operator first arranges his scene or background (if the
plates are to be ‘switched’ for those of the sitter’s, a black velvet
background is employed), and the sitter who is to impersonate
die ‘extra’ takes the place allotted to him. A very short exposure
is now given. If the picture is being taken merely for amuse-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 173

ment, a proper background or scene is employed, and the per-
son or object intended to represent the ‘ghost’ is placed in a
suitable position near the sitter: the camera is uncapped for a
fraction of a second and re-capped. The ‘ghost’ then moves out
of the picture and, without the sitter moving in the slightest
degree, a normal exposure is given. The assistant who person-
ates the ‘ghost’ should be draped m white, as a shorter exposure
will then be necessary, greater transparency will be gained for
the ‘spirit’, and a picture with better contrast will be the result.
That is the full-form ghost.

If a head only is required as an ‘extra’, the hve helper (or lay
figure) should poke his head through a hole in a black velvet
sheet. If the face is whitened, and a roll of cotton wool (ora
few yards of muslin) is draped around the head, an ‘extra’, in-
distinguishable from the orthodox ‘spirit’ pictures extant, will
be the result.

As regards the ratio of exposures, I find that if the normal
picture requires five seconds, the ‘ghost’ should be given one
second. These exposures should give good detail in the ‘extra’,
while allowing every part of the background to show plainly
through the ghosdy visitant. A fairly small stop should be
employed (one not larger than f. 16 or f.22), m order that the
various planes of the background of the picture should be
equally sharp and distinct — an important point when the
artistic appearance of the picture is to be considered. A fist
plate, backed for preference (to prevent halation), should be
used m conjunction with a slow developer. I find paramido-
phenol (a proprietary brand is sold, ready for use, under the
name of ‘Rodinal’) an excellent reagent for the development
of all ‘spirit* pictures. Slow in action, easy in manipulation,
clean and non-staining, and with good keeping qualities, it
produces negatives of fine quality with perfect gradation. Other
developers derived from coal-tar are also good. Although I
have mentioned the photographing of one ‘ghost’ or ‘extra’,

174 Secrets of ‘ Spirit ’ Photography

many subjects could be introduced into die picture in the same
way, with either double or muldple exposures. A spectral army
could be evolved with very little trouble.

The results obtained by double exposure can be duplicated
by double or combination printing, or ‘printing in’. The sim-
plest form of multiple printing is the production of a compo-
site photograph from two or more negatives. For instance, with
a little judicious blocking out, Eros could be ‘apported’ from
Piccadilly Circus and temporarily deposited in the centre of
Kensington Gardens, or the Houses of Parliament might be
made to appear enjoying a well-earned hohday on the sands at
Blackpool. Any intelligent amateur photographer could pro-
duce these results with htde trouble.

To portray a ‘spirit extra’ by the double-printing method is
easier still as, of course, we want the background — if any — to
show through the ‘extra’, which is popularly supposed to be
transparent. To produce a ghostly picture m this way it is
necessary to photograph the person or model representing the
‘extra’ in front of a dead-black background. The resultant
negative, which should be rather under-exposed, should show
the figure surrounded by almost clear glass. It is best to use
films for this particular class of spurious ‘spirit’ photograph,
otherwise the thickness of the glass will give a fuzzy appearance
to the superimposed image. Sometimes, when die dishonest
medium wishes his ‘extras’ to be ‘recognised’, he makes them
fuzzy on purpose. The negative on which is the setting for
your ‘spirit’ is placed in the printing-frame in the usual manner,
and next to it is placed the plate or film containing your ‘extra’.
The two negatives are then printed, as one, m the usual way.
The finished print will show your ‘extra’, through which the
added background will be plainly visible. I need hardly inform
the reader that the professional impostor does not employ this
method in his abominable work. It is obvious that by this trick
one ‘ghost’ can be made to serve for any number of settings, or

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 175

can be placed in different positions in the same setting. Groups
of little fames could be photographed from pictures or draw-
ings and made to appear as if they were playing ring-o ’-roses
at the bottom of your garden.1 By a similar process, one nega-
tive only is required, though in this case the ‘ghost’ is perman-
ently attached to the picture. First photograph your figure in
front of the black background as described above and, without
developing, take your second picture (the setting) upon the
same plate, care being taken that your ‘extra’ is in the conven-
tional position on your setting. (Do not print your ‘extra’ up-
side down unless you want to raise a laugh.) This is the method
usually employed by the fraudulent psychic photographer
when he uses his own plates or ‘switches’ your plate for his own
prepared one. This mode of faking plates offers a great tempta-
tion to the unskilled ‘medium’, who provides himself with a
collecnon of plates already bearing the latent images of an
assorted collection of faces, some of which he is certain will be
‘recognised’.

It is just as easy, of course, to reproduce drawings, photo-
graphs, half-tone pictures from the illustrated journals or daily
papers, etc., as it is to photograph animate or inanimate models.
You place them upon a dead-black background, and photo-
graph them in the ordinary way. The negatives thus produced
can be utilised in the same manner as the ‘ghost’ pictures
already described. The plate which the fraudulent psychic
photographer cleverly changes for your own may already con-
tain one or more latent images of pictures culled from the
operator’s family album, resurrected from his lumber-room, or
they may have first seen the light in a back number of The
Listener.

The ‘grain’ or rulings of the half-tone process blocks used by
printers for the reproduction of photographs vary considerably,

1See The Coming of the Fairies, by Arthur Conan Doyle, London, 192a,
for some interesting pictures of ‘funs’.

176 Secrets of1 Spirit ’ Photography

according to the class of work they will be used for. Blocks in-
tended for use in illustrating high-class magarinr« are marfc
with an extremely fine grain— almost invisible except by means
of a magnifying glass. Half-tone blocks as used by the illus-
trated newspapers, and for printing upon cheap paper, have a
coarser grain — caused by the use (during the manufacture of
the block) of a screen with a coarser rulrng. The structure of
the surface of a half-tone process print has been ably illustrated
by Professor Jastrow in his popular work on psychology,1 in
which he gives a highly-magnified reproduction of the head of
Lord Kelvin which appeared originally in the Photographic
Times. Viewed at the usual reading distance, nothing is seen but
a mass of black and white squares. Seen at a distance of twelve
feet or more, the head becomes clearly recognisable.

I have made this slight digression in order to point out to the
reader that any negative of a half-tone illustration, if reasonably
sharp and clear, must contain the peculiar dot formation in-
separable from the half-tone process, unless the original has
been faked as hereafter described. Placed under the microscope,
and viewed with a one-quarter or one-half inch objective, the
portion of die negative representing the copied process print
will resemble a chess-board. It is for this reason that pictures
taken from half-tone illustrations and fraudulently represented
as psychic ‘extras’ are seldom ‘sharp’; there is usually a certain
amount of fuzziness which often conceals the origin of the
photograph, as the dots, being out of focus, blend into one har-
monious whole. Sometimes the photographic faker will go
over the original half-tone copy with a stick of fairly soft wax.
This operation smudges the pictures a little, as the wax com-
bines with the grease in the printing ink and tends to obliterate
the dots of the half-tone. But the faker has a still more subtle
use for his sack of wax, and I am not sure that I am wise in

1Sec Fact and Fable in Psychology, by Joseph Jastrow, Boston and New
York, 1901.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 177

giving this particular secret away. But as it is only by knowing
his tricks that we can circumvent the machinations of the
fraudulent medium, I will include it in this chapter. Also, die
reader will be able to amuse himself in trying the experiment.

Take a piece of hard, glazed white note-paper, and rub over
it, as evenly as possible, a stick of fairly soft wax — a hard wax
candle (white) will serve. Having your waxed paper, select die
half-tone or line drawing that you want to copy, and place
your waxed paper, wax downwards, on the drawing or half-
tone newspaper illustration. Then rub the back of the note-
paper with the rounded side of a spoon or similar smooth
object, placing the whole on a hard surface. When thoroughly
rubbed all over, peel off the note-paper, on which will be
found a perfect copy (transfer) of the half-tone photograph,
which will not be damaged. Slighdy warm your paper and the
picture is then ‘fixed’. The faker now photographs this transfer,
and m the resultant negative no trace of the incriminating ‘dots’
will be found. This method also has the merit that half-tone
photographs can be copied without removing the originals,
such as those to be found in pubhc libraries, museums, etc. The
fact that this method reverses your picture does not usually
matter; if it does, then your waxed picture can be transferred to
another waxed paper, using the same method. If the wax is
melted and a little ohve oil is added, the mixture, when cold,
will be found a better reproducing medium than the plain wax.

What is true of the half-tone process picture applies in a
lesser degree to the ordinary photographic print, as the paper or
card upon which the negative has been printed has a grain —
more or less apparent — which is apt to be exaggerated in the
copying process as used by the dishonest medium unless the
lighting of the picture has been carefully considered and
arranged. If the paper upon which the photograph has been
printed has an appreciable grain, and a side light has been used
when being copied, it is obvious that the grain will be accentu-

178 Secrets of ‘ Spirit * Photography

a ted as each tiny hillock comprising the surface of the paper
will be lighted upon one side only: the side away from the
source of illumination will be in shadow. The photographic
copy will appear to have a much coarser texture than the
original, as the grain has been exaggerated by the uneven
lighting. The sun’s illumination of the moon serves as a good
example of what I mean. Full and new moon occur respec-
tively when the sun and moon are aligned oppositely. The foil
moon then appears ‘flat’ when viewed through a telescope, as it
receives a front light. At quadratures the moon appears half-
illuminated or ‘dichotomised’. It is then that the mountain
ranges and craters (such as the Lunar Apennines) cast long
shadows and are m brilliant contrast, owing to the more
oblique incidence of light.

It is apparent, then, that to avoid an unpleasant surface,
photographs must have a front lighting when being copied by
the camera. Albumemsed paper and some of the photographic
printing papers coated with collodion — which is highly trans-
parent and structureless — show very little gram. Other printing
papers prepared from a coarser stock show a distinctly granular
surface. It is always wise to carefully examine with a powerful
lens the alleged supernormal ‘extra’ upon the negative (for pre-
ference) or print. A gram can frequently be seen, clearly denot-
ing its fraudulent origin. In some of the alleged ‘spirit’ pictures
I have seen, the edges of the added ‘extras’ have been plainly
visible — proving that the original photograph has been roughly
cut round with a pair of scissors, and simply copied against a
black background. In one glaring case which came under my
notice, two such pictures, which overlapped slightly, had been
photographed together and ‘introduced’ into the same photo-
graph. The shadow cast by the edge of the upper picture, where
it overlapped the lower, was patent to all. Many ‘psychic’
photographers have had the technical knowledge necessary to
introduce fraudulently an ‘extra’ into a photograph, but have

Spirit’ photographs of (left to right) Sir Vincent Caillard, Lad\ Cadla
nd Sir Arthur Conan Do\le Note cut-out effect of heads, and cotto

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 179

not had enough artistic taste or ability to make a pleasing pic-
ture. On the other hand, I have seen alleged spirit pictures
where there has been direct evidence of die use of the air-
brush and India ink, and the result has been too beautiful to be
convincing. A mistake which is often made by the unskilled —
and thoughdess — faker is for the sitter and ‘extra’ to be lighted
from opposite directions — an inconsistency which is both
ludicrous and inardsdc at the same dme, though some sitters do
not appear to think it strange.

Another inconsistency often found in stereoscopic photo-
graphs of materialisations is for the alleged spirit forms to be
absolutely flat, whilst the medium or sitters and the accom-
panying mise-en-scbie are three-dimensional and stand out in
bold relief. Sometimes the drapery of die ‘spirit’ will exhibit
the stereoscopic effect, and the face will be as flat as the prover-
bial pancake — suggesting that the most important part of the
apparition is made of cardboard, upon which has been drawn or
photographed the features of a person. Some false mediums use
a dummy to represent the spiritual visitor. Mrs. Mellon, the
notorious materialising medium who was exposed1 at Sydney
in 1894, was famous for her ‘Geordie’ and ‘Cissie’ — two lay
figures which were her principal stock-in-trade. When I was at
Munich a year or so ago I examined a set of Dr. Baron A. von
Schrenck-Notzmg’s stereoscopic pictures of his experiments
with Eva C.,* and in every case the materialised heads, figures,
etc., were quite flat and looked as if they were cut out of stiff’
paper. It is very doubtful if these ‘spirits* were supernormal,
and the inconsistency of the stereograms was most marked.

Another way of printing an image upon a sensitised plate is

1See Spookland, by T. Shekelton Henry, Sydney, N.S.W., 1894. An
American edition was published in Chicago in 1902. Cf. also A Counter-
blast to Spookland ; or. Glimpses of the Marvellous, by ‘Psyche’, Sydney, 1894.

•See Materialisations-Phanomene, by Albert von Schrenck-Notzing, Mun-
chen, 1914, afterwards translated and published as Phenomena of Materialisa-
tion, London, 1920.

180 Secrets of 'Spirit’ Photography

by means of an enlarging lantern or reducing apparatus. This
method offers no particular advantage to the fraudulent oper-
ator, and it is very doubtful whether any medium would use
it to-day. The modem spurious ‘psychic’ photographer has
more subtle means of cheating the credulous, and requests, nay,
almost insists, that his client bring his own plates. In the follow-
ing pages the reader will learn how science has come to the aid
of the fraudulent photographic juggler who claims to be able to
portray, by means of the camera, the spirits of the relatives of
his deluded victims.

One afternoon in January 1921 I was waiting for a train at
Paddington Station and I got into conversation with a man
who was neither more nor less than a spirit photographer’s
mechanic. He did not know I was interested in psychic matters
and became very confidential. During our talk he showed me
the most perfect piece of apparatus for adding an ‘extra’ to a
negative that I have ever seen. It was made of ivory, and small
enough to be palmed m the hand. He called it the ‘Ghost
Stamp’, hi the lower part could be placed a tiny positive, the
upper portion containing an electric pea-lamp and miniature
battery. The lightest contact with the sensitised surface — or
back — of a plate printed a perfect vignetted ‘extra’ on the
emulsion, as the slight pressure closed the electric circuit, lit the
lamp and illuminated the positive. I have described and illus-
trated the ‘Ghost Stamp’ elsewhere,1 so will refer the reader to
my detailed explanation, should he feel disposed to make one
for himself.

I saw the ‘Ghost Stamp’ in 1921, and, clever as it was, it has
been quite superseded by a tiny piece of apparatus invented by
Mr. C. P. MacCarthy, the honorary secretary of a Sheffield
spiritualist society. Mr. MacCarthy constructed his little gadget

1Thu apparatus is minutely described and illustrated m an article, ‘Psychic
Photography’, by Harry Pnce, Journal of the American S.P R., New York,
Oct 1925, pp. 582-7.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 181

for the sole purpose of demonstrating that, under apparently
rigid test conditions, it is possible to print an ‘extra* on the sitter’s
own plate.

Mr. MacCarthy demonstrated his apparatus at a lecture he
gave in London on June 2 6, 193 5. During the meeting, he
offered to undergo a stringent test, and I will now quote from
the report of the lecture which appeared in Light for July 4,
I935:

‘Mr. MacCarthy offered to produce “extras” under any test
conditions which a special committee cared to impose, and his
challenge was accepted. Conditions were imposed which
appeared to make faking impossible. These included the pur-
chase by the committee of the photographic plates, which Mr.
MacCarthy was not allowed to touch during the whole of the
proceedings; the use of a camera and slide obtained direct from
a dealer’s stock and operated by a professional photographer;
searching before the sitting for concealed apparatus; and, as a
final precaution, that Mr. MacCarthy must submit to be hand-
cuffed during the proceedings.

‘All these conditions Mr. MacCarthy accepted; and yet five
“extras” were produced, and the faces on three of them were
“recognised” by the sitters.

‘Explaining the means by which this apparently impossible
result was achieved, Mr. MacCarthy said they were partly
psychological and partly scientific. To begin with, he searched
for old photographs bearing some resemblance to certain mem-
bers of the committee. Two of these — Mrs. W. E. Gladstone
and Mr. Ben Tillet — were duly “recognised” when they ap-
peared as “extras”, as the mother and relative, respectively, of
two of the sitters. Another photograph used was that of a
soldier friend of his (Mr. MacCarthy ’s) father, whom — by
adroit suggestion — he induced his father to ask for.

'Coming to the means by which the “extras” were actually
produced on the plates, Mr. MacCarthy said they included very

1 82

Secrets of 4 Spirit' Photography
careful preparation and much practice in getting diem in the
desired positions. The basis of his plan was the use of ultra-
violet rays, invisible to the human eye. After choosing die
photographs, etc., to be reproduced as “extras”, he made
micro-photographs (in which all essential details were pre-
served m a space no larger than a pin-head) and mounted these
— five of them — in a specially prepared ultra-violet projector
about the size of his little finger.

‘Although he was searched before the sitting, this projector
was not found — where it was hidden was part of die secret
which he did not yet wish to reveal; and although he was hand-
cuffed, he experienced no difficulty m using the projector in the
dark-room, his method being to make some remark and point
his finger — and the projector, which was attached under his
finger by a ring — at the plates at a distance of about 18 inches.’

From Mr. MacCarthy’s experiment1 it will be seen how
utterly hopeless it is for the ordinary person to attempt to com-
bat die machinations of a fraudulent ‘spirit’ photographer. Mr.
MacCarthy could not have staged his very convincing test had
he not had some considerable knowledge of photography,
optics, electricity, chemistry and conjuring. If he had turned
Ids ultra-violet light projector to dishonest uses, he could have
made a fortune out of the credulous fools who flock to ‘spirit’
photographers. Although Mr. MacCarthy used ultra-violet rays
in his experiments, the invisible infra-red also could have been
employed, though not perhaps in the same projector.

It is not every professional photographic ‘medium’ who has
die necessary skill or knowledge to use ultra-violet light or
infra-red rays in faking his plates. But there are many other
ways in which plates can be affected, thus producing some
alleged psychic marking or semblance to a face.

The sensitised coating of a photographic plate is extremely

1For a complete illustrated explanation of Mr. MacCarthy ’« methods, see
Psydtk Science, VoL XIV, No. 3, Oct. 1935.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 183

delicate, the silver emulsion of which it is composed registering
upon its surface the faintest actinic ray, emanating from what-
ever source. It is affected by many chemicals, gas fumes, add
vapours, radio-active substances, infra-red, ultra-violet and
X-rays, radiant heat, etc. The uncapped camera placed at an
open window during a thunderstorm at night records die
lightning flash as surely and as faithfully as it does the portrait
in the studio: and this extreme sensitiveness is utilised in many
subde ways by the fraudulent spirit photographer who deceives
his clients with spurious ‘spirit’ pictures.

We have seen in the first part of this chapter how it is pos-
sible, by means of a double exposure or double printing, to get
an ‘extra’ upon the finished picture; but it is most unlikely that
the modem photographic faker would resort to such crude and
obsolete methods, which have been exposed over and over again
in books and magazine articles. The really up-to-date psychic
photographer makes a great point of utilising your plates,
marked for preference at the time of the sitting. If he does not
do this, you can consider him suspect from the very start. Moss
made the initial mistake of refusing to use any but his own
plates, and of course was always regarded with suspicion. As the
modem dishonest photographic medium is practically com-
pelled by public opinion to use the sitter’s plates, the whole of
his energies are directed towards the production of figures or
markings upon the plates which cannot be accounted for by
normal means. He likes to show you the plate complete with
‘extra’, dripping wet, straight from the fixing-bath, as he seems
to think that this display of honesty’ on his part is a guarantee
that no trickery has been resorted to in the production of the
negative. Rarely does the investigator find that the negative or
print has been faked or tampered with— detection would be so
very easy, and there are so many ways of tampering with the
extremely delicate sensitised coating of the plate before its
ultimate arrival in the final bath. I will enumerate some of

1 84 Secrets of ‘ Spirit ’ Photography

them, leaving the question of the utilisation of radio-active

substances until later.

One of the very easiest — and least known — methods of get-
ting cloud-like forms or peculiar markings upon a photo-
graphic plate is to use an unevenly mixed developer. The
reader can easily try the following experiment: take a heavy,
concentrated, one-solution developer such as Rodinal or Azol,
to mention only two of several brands on the market. Pour
about one hundred minims of the reagent mto a four-ounce
graduated measure. Add gradually four ounces of water, letting
it gently trickle down the inside of the glass. It will be found
that the two liquids — owing to the difference in specific
gravity — will not mix, the heavier chemical remaining at the
bottom of the vessel. If the contents of the measure are now
poured slowly over the exposed sensitised plate, without rock-
ing the dish, it will be found that whereas the image will
slowly develop, cloud-like markings, of greater density, will
make their appearance upon the plate — due to the uneven
action of the developer. These mar longs, which sometimes
assume very curious formations, will of course be plainly
visible in the finished print. An unscrupulous medium will
assert that these marks are due to spirit agency, and will en-
deavour to point out their resemblance to human faces or in-
animate objects. With a little imagination you will fancy you
see ‘something’ and go away more or less impressed. It is not
possible to produce a portrait by this method (unless by acci-
dent), though these shadowy forms can be manufactured right
under the noses of the investigators. When no question of in-
dividual identity is involved, but merely that of recognition of
an attempt at the human face, any three random marks that
are not too far apart or too divergent in size will, of course,
gain such recognition; the more so if one talks about ‘first
attempts’, ‘the early stages of materialisation’, etc. That is why
one sees ‘faces’ in the pattern of the carpet, in a figured wall-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 185

paper, in photographs of trees or foliage, or amongst the
cinders of a glowing coal fire. With the unevenly mixed
developer method, the ‘psychic’ can utilise his client’s own
marked plates and apparatus and even his own dark-room —
provided the mixing of the developer is left to the medium, as
is often the case. In a similar way, by the use of a camel’s hair
or sable brush dipped in the concentrated developer, forms can
be painted upon the sensitised emulsion that are indistinguish-
able from some of the alleged psychic ‘extras’ palmed off on the
uninitiated. The mere fact of not rocking the dish during the
process of development of a plate will produce curious mark-
ings due to the uneven action of the reagent. Similar markings
can be produced by uneven fixing.

Another and still more subtle way of producing weird forms
upon the sensitised plate under strict ‘test’ conditions is for the
dishonest medium surreptitiously to drop a small crystal (not
much larger than a pin’s head) of sodium thiosulphate (hypo-
sulphite of soda, or ‘hypo’) upon the plate during the process
of development. The crystal slowly dissolves, forming an irreg-
ular circular patch of varying intensity, removing by its action
the silver salts in the emulsion which have not been affected by
the light. The investigator’s own plates can be used, and the
finished print wall show the markings. Sulphocyanide of
ammonium, sulphite of soda, cyanide of potassium, and sulpho-
cyanide of potassium can be used in place of the ‘hypo’. The
cyanide of potassium is particularly active as a solvent, and its
effect in a given time is correspondingly greater.

Still another way of producing ‘extras’ upon the sensitised
surface of a photographic plate is by means of the glowing end
of a lighted cigarette. It is quite possible for the fraudulent
photographer to produce some semblance to a head and shoul-
ders by the cigarette process, for the light emanations can be
directed as surely as the artist’s brush or Mr. MacCarthy’s
ultra-violet ray projector. Obviously, this method is not pos-

1 86

Secrets of ‘ Spirit * Photography

siblc if die investigator is standing over die medium, but die
former’s marked plates can be used.

I have shown how simple it is by means of a crystal of hypo-
sulphite of soda to produce ‘spirit’ formations upon a sensitised
plate. It is even easier to produce similar markings by dipping a
finger into the ‘hypo’ and, with a circular motion, rubbing it
upon the emulsion. Finger-marks show very plainly upon the
gelatine surface of photographic plates. Even a perfectly clean
finger rubbed upon the plate pnor to its immersion m the
developer will, owing to the natural greasiness of the skin,
produce markings in the finished negative. I heard of one man
who specialised in producing abnormal markings (which he
said were caused by ‘human radiations’) m his clients’ own
dark-rooms. These he produced by the simple expedient of
running his fingers through his greasy hair and, unseen by the
observers, rubbing them upon the sensitised surface of the
plates. This astute gentleman used to vary the process by con-
cealing chemicals m his hair and using them as circumstances
dictated.

It is quite possible to get markings upon unexposed plates by
wrapping them up for a week or so (time depends upon the age
of the journal used) m an illustrated newspaper or journal. Try
the experiment of wrapping up a fairly fast plate in a page of
illustrations culled from The Listener, and putting it by for a
few weeks. You will find, upon development, a faithful repro-
duction of the picture or print with which the sensitised surface
was in contact. This curious fra is due to three causes, viz.

(1) the deterioration of the sensitised emulsion, which is more
rapid where the blank (unprinted) paper was touching, owing
to the preservative qualities of die grease in the printing ink;

(2) certain chemical actions set up by the printing ink; (3) the
absorption by the gelatine of a certain amount of moisture
from that portion of the paper which is not printed on. Where
the plate has absorbed any of the grease in the printing ink, it

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 187

will be found that this has the effect of delaying the action of
the developer over those portions of the plate which have been
in contact with the ink. It would be possible to produce a
‘spirit’ picture in this way — using your own plates, of course, or
‘substituting*.

Another and extremely subtle method of producing recog-
nisable portraits upon the investigator’s own marked plates,
whilst he is actually standing over you in his own dark-room, is
known as the ‘backed plate* method, and the trick was ex-
plained to me by the ‘Ghost Stamp’ gentleman. The pseudo-
medium first suggests to his dupe that he should use his (the
sitter’s) own marked fast plates, ‘backed for preference, as it
precludes any false images due to halation’. He then photo-
graphs his sitter with his (the investigator’s) own camera, in his
own studio. They then go to the investigator’s own dark-room,
and the owner stands over him whilst he develops the plate.
(As a matter of fact, a clever operator could let the investigator
develop the plate and still get his ‘extra’ on.) Having developed
the plate, the ‘medium’ (or investigator) fixes it, and, taking it
to the light, the victim is astounded to find an ‘extra’, with fair
detail and not so clear and sharp as to appear suspicious, looking
over his left shoulder.

The secret of this ‘miracle’ is as subtle as it is simple, provid-
ing the ‘medium’ can do a very little sleight of hand. He first
of all obtains a small film positive, about three-quarters of an
inch in diameter. He then takes the photograph of the sitter in
the ordinary way— care being taken to leave room for the
‘extra’ on one side of the sitter’s head. Now, it is well known
that most of the ‘backing’ used on photographic plates is made
of powdered burnt sienna, gum arabic, glycerine and water —
which is easily soluble in the developer, which it discolours.
The faker then takes the plate (or the investigator can do this)
and puts it in the developer for a few moments. He then takes
it out again and, under the pretence of seeing if the image is

1 88 Secrets of ‘ Spirit' Photography

appearing, holds it up to die dark-room lamp — a perfeedy
natural proceeding. By this means the ‘medium’ is enabled to
see die position of the sitter on the plate. Noting this, with the
middle finger of the left hand he surreptitiously rubs away a
portion of the backing at the spot where he wants his ‘extra’ to
appear, making a circle rather less in diameter than that of his
litde positive film. He returns the plate to the dish, and, secur-
ing his film positive, retains it unseen between the fingers of
his left hand. He again has a look at the plate to ‘see how it is
getting on’, and slips his litde film on the back of the plate at the
spot he has prepared for it. It will be quite unnoticed and will
remain m position by suction till it is removed. Now for the
perfect subdety.

It is not generally known that not one dark-room lamp in a
hundred is ‘safe’. Take a fast plate (one of a speed of about 1000
to 1500 H. & D.), place three corns upon it and expose it for
two or three minutes to the light of an ordinary dark-room
lamp. Upon development, the places where the coins were will
be quite white and clear, but the surrounding portions of the
negative will develop up black, showing that the red light has
fogged it. Hold up a small spectroscope to the red light, and
you will find that a wide band of the spectrum, embracing per-
haps some of the blue-violet, blue, yellow and orange lines,
will be visible. A perfeedy ‘safe’ light will show only a very
narrow band in the red end of the spectrum. In the act of con-
standy holding up the plate to the dark-room lamp to ‘view
progress’, the ‘red’ light (which I have shown is not wholly red)
is printing (i.e. fogging) the faker’s ‘extra’ upon the portion of
die plate assigned to it. The duration of the exposure required
to do this is governed by the speed of the plate, the density of
the ‘extra’, and the quality (i.e. the amount of light, other than
red, that the lamp passes) of the dark-room lamp. The backing
prevents the remainder of the plate from being fogged, at the
same time nicely vignetting off the portion filled by the ‘extra’.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 189

When the little positive disc has been printed sufficiently, it is
slid off into the now discoloured developer, where it is quite
invisible. The faker either pours the whole contents of the dish
down the sink or obtains possession of it while the investigator
is going into ecstasies over the wonderful result. My informant
told me he had never known this trick to fail, and said that one
of the best-known ‘spirit’ photographers in America used it
frequently. Backed plates are not imperative for this very
subtle decepnon, but they produce better contrast between the
normal picture and the ‘extra’. On one occasion, he told me, he
submitted to a most severe test. He was searched, stripped,
made to change his clothes and work in the dark-room of a
local photographic society under constant supervision. He was
even subjected to a medical examination, which, as it transpired,
was singularly incomplete. They never took their eyes off the
plate from the time the packet was opened till it came out of
the fixing-bath. ‘But I fooled them all the same,’ he said, ‘and I
will tell you how I did it. The little disc (the gelatine of which
has been hardened by means of a formalin bath) I secreted
under the loose skin of the glans penis (the prepuce), and re-
covered it at a favourable opportunity.’ To my query as to
whether this trick had ever been published, he replied in the
negative; but said he adapted it from an idea suggested in an old
number of a German technical paper.1

It is also possible to produce blurred forms upon backed
plates by scraping away the backing with the finger-nail in the
act of removing the plates from the dark-slide, and exposing, as
already explained, to the ‘unsafe’ dark-room lamp. The backing
afterwards dissolves in the developer, thus removing all traces
of the trick. If the investigator takes care that the red screen of
the dark-room lamp has been made reasonably ‘safe’ by paper
or gelatine stained with a mixture of methyl violet, tartrazinc
and crocein scarlet, the plate would require much longer
1 Probably the Berlin Beriehtc der Deutsthen Chemixhen Geselhchaft.

190 Secrets of * Spirit * Photography

exposure before an ‘extra* could be printed on in the way I have
explained. Some ‘spirit’ photographers request their sitters to
bring fast plates, and frequently ask them to purchase plates of
a particular brand. They can therefore set up a certain standard
to work by, and make their calculations accordingly, reducing
the risk of failure to a minimum.

Although it is customary for die ‘spint* photographer to
allow his sitter to develop (or watch the development of) the
exposed plates, it sometimes happens that the after-manipula-
tion of the plates is left to the medium, in which case the oppor-
tunities for fraud are unlimited. I cannot understand a serious
investigator allowing the medium to touch the plates in any
way, but I admit that in the case of a lady, whose knowledge of
photography is perhaps nil, the temptation to ‘leave it to the
medium* is not to be resisted — so I will describe a few further
ways in which an alleged psychic ‘extra’ can be added to a
genuinely-exposed plate.

We will assume that the investigator has brought his own
marked plates. In the first place, any external marking can be
duplicated upon a substituted plate m the privacy of the dark-
room. Signatures can be forged; diamond writings or marks
can be imitated with ease; scratchings upon the film side of the
plate can be copied, etc., etc. What cannot be duplicated so
easily are the X-ray identity marks, which I originated when I
had my sitting with William Hope,1 and now extensively used.
Whether the plate be marked or not, the fraudulent medium
has many dodges by which he can make an ‘extra’ appear on
any plate supplied to him.

An easy way of adding an alleged ‘spirit’ photograph to a
plate is by means of a small positive, placed on the glass or film
side (according to the degree of sharpness desired) of the plate,
and exposing the positive (only) to a white light for a second.
This method is similar to the trick already described, but accom-
1See Cold Light on Spiritualistic ‘Phenomena’, op. cit.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 191

plished under more comfortable conditions. Or, should he
know the type of ‘spirit’ his client desires, he can get an artist to
draw the portrait of the wanted one on tracing-cloth, tracing-
paper, tissue paper, greaseproof paper, or papier-mineral. This
forms the necessary positive, and is used in the way I have
already described. I am informed that old cinematograph films
of celebrities (or nonentities) are cut up and the single pictures
used to print ‘extras’ upon sitters’ plates. The fact that a blurred
picture of, for instance, the late W. E. Gladstone is suggested by
the medium as a speaking likeness of his client’s great grand-
father (who had side-whiskers and a long white beard at die
time of his demise) is not regarded as strange by the average
‘spirit’ photograph hunter. Tracing-paper or cloth lends itself
admirably to the manufacture of spurious ‘spirit’ photographs.
A clever artist can simulate a photograph with his pencil and
air-brush that defies detection when it is reduced and pro-
jected, suitably blurred or out of focus, by means of a
low-powered microscope and lantern upon a photographic
plate. The fuzzy pictures are frequently ‘recognised’ by too
enthusiastic or over-credulous investigators who are seek-
ing to prove the post-mortem existence of their friends and
relatives.

Another simple way of producing weird forms upon a plate
is by the ‘stencil method’. A sketch of the figure required is
drawn the correct size upon the bottom of a plate box (usually
made of cardboard) and cut out with a sharp knife, like a
stencil. The cut edges are then serrated in order that the shadow
cast upon the plate shall not be too sharply defined. A thin
piece of tissue paper (in order to diffuse the light) is now
pasted over the aperture in the box bottom, and upon the
paper are stuck tiny bits of cardboard to represent the eyes,
mouth, hair, etc. By the judicious application of pieces of
different thicknesses, shadings and half-tones can be shown
with little trouble. Some very clever positives can be produced

1 92 Secrets of ‘ Spirit ’ Photography

by this method,1 which is useful where the ‘psychic* is unwill-
ing or unable to employ an artist. When die ‘positive* is
finished, the plate is merely dropped into the box (in the dark-
room of course), the hd of the box replaced, and the bottom of
the box exposed for a fraction of a second to an electric pocket
torch (or lighted match), taking care that the light is kept mov-
ing during the period of the exposure so that no hard outlines
are caused by the shadow of the stencil. Upon development of
the plate, a first-class ‘extra’ will be seen, especially if a little
ingenuity has been expended upon the fashioning of the card-
board stencil, with papers of varying degrees of opacity.

Another trick, well-known to American ‘psychic’ photo-
graphers, is to paint or draw an ‘extra’ upon the emulsion of
the plate (before exposure) with thin opaque yellow pigment.
This is done previously m the dark-room and, upon exposure,
the yellow paint obstructs the light rays falling upon that por-
tion of the film so treated, reproducing, when developed, a
faithful replica of the drawing. It is impossible, without close
examination, to discover the fraud in the red light of the dark-
room, as the yellow pigment matches the yellow silver emul-
sion. The only drawback to this method, I am told (I have not
tried it personally), is the objectionable sharpness of the ‘spirit’
due to the clear-cut edges of the drawing. This defect could be
overcome by a clever artist, or the faker could paint his ‘extra’
upon the glass side of the plate and expose this side in the
camera. Whether the film or glass side be worked upon, the
pigment, composed of sugar, water, gum arable, glycerine and
a yellow dye, dissolves in the developer. Sometimes a piece of
yellow tissue paper (cut to the requisite shape) is pasted on the
back of a plate; m this case, the plate is exposed from the glass
side. To prevent the texture of the paper showing in the final

1The author has seen some embossed porcelain plaques which, when held
up to the light, have the appearance of beautiful photographs, owing to the
gradations in the tliirlmMi of the paste.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 193

photograph, it is soaked in a mixture of xylol, Canada balsam
and oil of cloves, which makes it practically grainless.

Another dodge, supposed to have been used by Keeler in
America some years ago, is to use children’s coloured transfers,
as sold in sheets, to represent the ‘extras’ on a photographic
plate. A suitable head or figure would be cut from the sheet and
transferred to its appointed position on the glass side of the
plate. When the transfer paper was removed, and the plate ex-
posed m the usual way (except that the glass side was towards
the lens), a perfect, though somewhat blurred, reproduction of
the transfer would, upon development, be plainly visible. The
various colours of the transfer would have the effect of stopping
more or less light from affecting the sensitive emulsion of the
film. The portion of the film immediately behind the most
actinic colours, such as violet, indigo, blue and green, would be
more affected during exposure than that part of the film sub-
jected to the rays from the yellow, orange and red. Conse-
quently, an image of varying intensity, very like a photograph,
would be the result. I have tried this method and must admit it
has great possibilities. The transfer washes off when placed in
the developer, removing all traces of the trick. A variant of this
fraud is to paste a small piece of tissue paper upon the glass side
of the negative and to work upon it with pencil or stump, pro-
ducing any sort of figure that cannot be copied from a photo-
graph or secured in any other way. The tissue paper is ‘cleared’
with the xylol and Canada balsam mixture. Other transparent
substandes, such as gold-beater’s skin, gelatine, cellophane,
parchment, waxed tissue, thin celluloid, etc., can be used, but
the paper is easier to work on, owing to the superior ‘bite’
obtainable upon its surface. I have seen some clever and ela-
borate drawings upon tissue paper which would be eminently
suitable for the purpose.

Another dodge, also supposed to have been used by Keeler,
was to obtain ‘extras’ upon the sensitised plate by means of a

194 Secrets of * Spirit ’ Photography

bright image reflected through his studio window into the lens
of his camera. He is alleged to have cut ‘heads’ out of bright tin-
foil, pasted them on boards covered with dead-black paper, and
hong them at a suitable angle outside his studio window. I have
tried this method, and find it is quite easy to reflect the image of
the foil a considerable distance if a bright light is employed, as
the black paper absorbs the light and the polished foil reflects a
perfect image of the head. The lens of the camera collects the
projected rays and transfers them (much reduced) to the sensi-
tised plate in the usual manner.

In the Keeler on-foil method the figures are of course visible,
though screened from the gaze of the casual observer. But I see
no reason why the same results should not be obtained by means
of the ‘magic’ bronze mirrors of Japan. Professor Silvanus P.
Thompson, the famous English physicist, in his popular book
on light1 gives two illustrations of a Japanese ‘magic mirror’ and
the image reflected upon the wall by the polished front face.
There is nothing to be seen upon this highly-polished silvered
surface, and yet a reflection from it gives an accurate copy of
the image or design cast upon the back. Professor Thompson
says: ‘Here* is one of these beautiful Japanese mirrors, round,
heavy, and furnished with a metal handle. One face has been
polished with care and hard labour; the other has upon it in
relief the ornament cast m the mould — in this case the crest of
the Imperial family, the Kiri leaf (the leaf of the Paullonia
imperiales), with the flower-buds appearing over it. The pol-
ished face is very slightly convex; but on looking into it . . . you
would see nothing of the ornament on the back. It is merely —
so far as you or the former owner of the mirror is concerned —
a mirror.

‘But now take this mirror and hold it in the light of the sun,
or in the beams of an electric lamp, and let it reflect a patch of

1Light, Visible and Invisible, by Silvanos P. Thompson, London, 1897.

*Ibid. Fig. 3J, p. 50.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 195

light upon the white wall, or upon a screen. What do you see?
Why, in the patch of light reflected from the front of the
mirror, you see1 the pattern that is on the bade. This is the
extraordinary “magic” property that has made these mirrors so
celebrated. . . . For many years it was supposed that these
mirrors were produced by some trick. But the extraordinary
fact was discovered by Professor Ayrton in Japan that the
Japanese themselves were unaware of the magic property of the
mirrors. It results, in fact, from an accident in manufacture.
Not all Japanese mirrors show the property; those that show it
best are generally thin and with a slight convex face. It was
demonstrated by Professor Ayrton, and I have since accumu-
lated other proofs, that the effect is due to extremely slight in-
equalities of curvature of surface. These arise accidently in the
process of polishing. The mirrors are cast m moulds. To polish
their faces they are laid down on their backs by the workman
who scrapes them violently with a blunt iron tool, using great
force. During this process they become slightly convex. The
polishing is completed by scouring with charcoal and scrubbing
with paper, after which they are “silvered” by application of an
amalgam of tin and mercury. Now during the violent scraping
with the iron tool the mirror bends, but the dun parts yield
more under the pressure than the thick parts do; hence the
thick parts get worn away rather more than the thin parts,
and remain relatively concave, or at least less convex.’

It is obvious then, from Professor Thompson’s experiments,
that it is possible to project an image, the source of which is
quite invisible to the naked eye, by the reflected light from a
brass plate on which is nothing visible. The images thus pro-
jected can be registered on a photographic plate and palmed off
on the unwary as a psychic ‘extra’. The innocent-looking vase
on the mantelshelf of the medium’s studio, the framed mirror
on the wall, or die polished rotundity of the ‘antique’ copper
lIbid. Fig. 36.

196 Secrets of ‘ Spirit ’ Photography

coal scuttle may be secretly printing the picture of someone’s
great-grandmother upon the photographic plate in the me-
dium’s camera. If any reader of these Confessions imagines that
this last suggested method of fraudulently introducing an
’extra’ is far-fetched, I can only reply that the idea has possibili-
ties that cannot be overlooked by the serious and conscientious
investigator.

I hope the reader has now begun to realise the number and
diversity of the ways of introducing spurious images into a
bona-fide photograph. I do not assert for one moment that all
these methods are m use to-day; m fact, it is doubtful whether
many of them are known to the average photographic medium
— he is often too ignorant. But there is no reason why the in-
vestigator should not suddenly stumble across one of the
dodges mentioned m this chapter, which if it has been read with
care should prove of value to him. But the real purpose of this
monograph is to make the psychic student think; he will then be
prepared. He may meet with variants of the methods described.
Not every fraudulent medium possesses a ‘Ghost Stamp’, but he
could work a similar trick by means of a very small folding
camera with an electric bulb inside, the positive of the re-
quired ‘extra’ taking the place of the usual ground-glass focus-
ing-screen.

Though I have given particulars of several methods of obtain-
ing fraudulent psychic pictures, these apply merely to the
manipulation of the plate either before or after the legitimate
exposure. Some of these methods are well-known, others are
not, and all are simple compared to the trick apparatus that
could be devised to defraud the over-credulous.

I have sometimes been asked if the photographic fakers ever
use living models for the production of their ‘extras’. It has been
done, of course, but the method is far too risky to become
popular. The fraudulent medium who would risk die use of
living models would be ‘given away’ — or blackmailed— sooner

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 197

or later. Where fake psychic ‘extras’ are concerned it is clearly
a case of ‘dead men tell no tales’. China heads (dolls’ heads
make excellent models), dolls, clay figures and wooden
images have all been utilised by the faker when it suited his
purpose. Barbers’ wax lay figures, with their carmine cheeks,
flowing golden tresses, blue eyes as big as saucers, and with
mouths like Cupid’s bow, make extremely good-looking
models for the faker who has a taste for colour. ‘Extras’ of these
models, produced by any of the numerous colour processes,
look exceedingly pretty. Those I have seen looked like a bevy
of charming maidens who had made a special trip from Elysium
m order to pose before the ‘psychic’ photographer’s camera.
Buguet, the early Parisian exponent of ‘psychic’ photography,
commenced using the pictures of living persons for his ‘extras’,1
and went to prison m consequence. If he had stuck to the old
family album, all would have been well.

We have already seen how very easy it is to fake a plate
before or after it has been exposed. I will now draw attention
to some pieces of trick apparatus designed to ‘help out’ die
phenomena.

Frederick A. Hudson, a clever and artistic ‘spirit’ photo-
grapher who flourished in the latter part of last century, is
popularly supposed to have used the first trick camera. He was
frequendy exposed.* Though most of Hudson’s photographs
were produced by the double exposure method, upon occasion
he would use an ingenious camera which, I am informed, was
made by Howell, a famous London maker of mahogany con-
juring apparatus.* This camera, of die old square wooden type

1For examples of Buguet’s work, see Leaves from a Psychics’ s Case-Book,
op. cit., Plate XVII.

•See Encyclopaedia of Psychic Science, op. cit., p. 177.

•The author possesses an ingenious mechanical stool made by Howell
which was used by die famous American physical medium, Annie Eva
Fay.

198 Secrets of ‘ Spirit ’ Photography

used in those days, contained a bght metal frame which, m its
normal position in the intenor of the camera, rested upon the
bottom of the smaller of the two telescopic portions of which
the camera was constructed. This frame was used to hold a
waxed paper positive upon which was the desired full-form
‘extra’. The simple movement of pushing in the dark-slide
actuated a lever which raised this frame from a horizontal to a
vertical position, taking with it the positive, which was thus
placed in contact with the photographic plate. The withdrawal
of the slide would of course restore the positive and its frame to
its normal position — the whole falling back by its own weight.
Upon exposing the sensitised plate, the ‘extra’ would be auto-
matically printed on the plate at the same time as the image of
die sitter was being registered. Upon development, both sitter
and ‘extra’ would appear simultaneously, the opacity of the
‘spirit’ depending upon the density of the image in the paper
positive. A great number (fifty-four) of Hudson’s pictures are
well reproduced in a book1 by Miss Georgina Houghton, a dear
old lady (who ought really to have been m a home) who
visited Hudson’s studio no fewer than two hundred and fifty
times between March 1872 and January 1877. All of Hudson’s
pictures in this book show distinct traces of double exposure,
and each ghostly visitant is nicely placed against a dark back-
ground where it would show up to the best advantage. But we
will not waste too much time over Georgina and the rascal who
so long deceived her, as the beliefs of the one, and the methods
of the other, are alike obsolete. Miss Houghton’s book is to-day
regarded as one of the curiosities of psychic literature.

I do not intend to give detailed explanations of all the trick
apparatus that could be constructed for the purpose of register-
ing a ‘psychic extra’— I should require a volume as large as
these Confessions. But I will indicate in what directions the
investigator should look if he intends making a systematic

KXtroniclcs of Spirit Photography, by Georgina Houghton, London, 1882.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 199

examination of the apparatus and dark-room intended for the
experiments.

Having thoroughly examined the camera (no easy matter, by
the way), attention should be turned to the dark-slides or
plate-holders. It is possible that in one of these is a shutter or
trap, which could be opened to admit a projected image thrown
from the pocket, dark-room lamp, window, etc., and so well
made that it can be discovered only by the closest scrutiny. Or
the dark-slide might have a ‘flap’ arrangement which hides a
duplicate prepared plate which could be substituted for the
sitter’s. All sorts of things can be done with a camera lens. A
microphotograph1 could be placed between the components of
a lens and the image thrown upon the plate. This method
might answer with a short focus lens, but I doubt if it is feasible
with one of long focus. Or the microphotograph could be
cemented m a pin-hole in the camera bellows, lens mount or
Waterhouse stop. And what could be easier than mounting a
small posinve in the aperture of a Waterhouse stop, and, on pre-
tence of changing the stop, introducing the mounted positive,
thus turning the camera into a daylight enlarging lantern? Or
the positive could be set in a small tube m the dark-room lamp.
As a matter of fact, I once did this experimentally by mounting
a tiny posinve in front of a small lens set in a tube at the side of
the lamp. I found that a perfect image of my positive, about
three-fourths of an inch square, was projected. It would have
been an easy matter to receive the image upon a sensitised
plate. Other trick dark-room lamps could easily be devised.
Then there are trick developmg dishes — black papier machi
dishes in which a glass-protected positive is set in the bottom.
When the rapid plate is in the dish, and the latter is held near

XA transparent any photograph, about one millimetre square, which must
be looked at through an enlarging lens of some sort. Not to be confused with
a photomicrograph, which is a picture of a microscopic object, made by
pointing a camera through a microscope and giving an enlarged view of die
object without further manipulation.

300 Secrets of * Spirit ’ Photography

die ‘unsafe* dark-room lamp, an image will be printed on the
fast emulsion. The ‘window* in the black developing dish will
escape nonce. Then there are the common glass developing
dishes which could be placed over a trap on bench or sink, and
an ‘extra’ surreptitiously printed in this way.

If there can be trickery in the dark-room, there can also be
trickery in the studio or room where the photographs are taken.
There can be trap-doors, projected images, a mirror behind the
sitter which is reflecting another person or model suitably
screened, faked backgrounds through which the ‘spirit* (the
faker’s assistant) pokes his head, or in which is a trap, opened at
the moment of exposure, revealing a dummy who duly ap-
pears on the negative.

In the gende art of substitution there is unlimited scope for
a smart man — or woman — and I have never yet come across a
photographic ‘psychic’ who was not either very intelligent or
very cunning. Dark-slides are as easy to manipulate and handle
as slates, and as for the number of tncks with slates1 — their name
is legion. It is not only possible to substitute a dark-slide during
die course of the experiment, but (with so many modem
cameras identical in appearance) quite easy to substitute the
camera as well! Packets of plates, portions of contents of boxes
(plates arc usually packed in fours or sixes), single plates,
wrappers (afterwards marked), empty boxes — all can be ex-
changed or ‘switched’ by the photographic juggler. Ringing
the changes, usually accomplished by misdirection, is the sheet
anchor of the fraudulent ‘spirit’ photographer who specialises m
using his sitters’ plates.

Confederacy must be taken into account by the serious in-
vestigator, and steps taken that it cannot enter into any of his
experiments. Fraudulent ‘psychics’ have been known to photo-

1See Spirit Slate Writing and Kindred Phenomena, by William Ellsworth
Robinson (‘Chung Lmg Soo’), New York and London, 1899. Contains all
the principal slate tncks as used by mediums.

201

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
graph photographers’ shop windows and show-cases in order to
get photos of recently-deceased persons who lived in die same
town as the sitter. Servants have supplied copies of photo-
graphs sought by mediums for dishonest purposes, and I was
once told of a case where a window-cleaner — in the course of
his employment — ‘snapped’ an oil-painting m a third-floor
apartment; the portrait, somewhat faked, appearing eventually
as a recognised ‘extra’ on a sitter’s own plate. In this last case
was used rather a clever subtlety. The lady who was having the
test took her own plates, and saw them put in the dark-slide in
the dark-room. She then thought about marking them, so,
taking a small piece of stamp-paper from her hand-bag, she
stuck it on die dark-slide and initialled it. When the plates came
to be developed, she confirmed her initials on the shde, and was
delighted to find a beautiful ‘extra’ (of the oil painting) on one
of the plates. She never failed to tell her friends about the
‘perfect test’. What she did not tell them was the fact that the
medium, following her out of the dark-room, transferred the
still wet stamp-paper from the first dark-slide to one containing
the ‘extra’ which he had in readiness. The investigation of
alleged supernormal photographs is really a batde of wits.

It is not very likely that the reader will ever come across a
‘spirit’ photographer clever enough, or rich enough, to employ
expensive apparatus involving the use of X-rays, infra-red rays,
or ultra-violet light. But as psychic ‘extras’ can be impressed on
a sensitised emulsion by these methods, this chapter would not
be nearly complete if I did not make some reference to them.

I employed the X-ray markings in my experiment with
Hope, and the idea has been very largely copied. But X-rays
can be used illegitimately, as well as legitimately, and it would
be quite easy to produce a semblance to a face on a fast plate in
the developing dish by having suitable apparatus under the
dark-room bench, the rays being formed into die required
design by the use of lead stencils or lead paint. Ultra-violet

202

Secrets of ‘ Spirit' Photography
images (quite invisible to the eye) can be projected, as we have
seen, on to a photographic plate if the faker is clever enough to
make die necessary apparatus.

If X-rays, infra-red rays and ultra-violet light can be con-
sidered as outside the range of the ordinary commercial
‘psychic’ photographer, radio-active salts and substances have,
I am certain, been used m the production of fraudulent
‘extras’.1 Abnormal markings can be produced on plates by
painting radio-active sulphide of zinc on the inside of the cam-
era bellows, or on the inside of the flap of a dark-slide. Figures
painted on a plate wrapper will be faithfully reproduced on the
plate if the two are allowed to be in contact for some time. A
painting of a face or other design, executed in the radio-active
paint, and pasted in the interior of a dark-slide, will reproduce
itself on the plate. If a sheet of black paper is pasted over the
painting, it will hide the latter and only slightly prolong the
tunc necessary to produce an image on the emulsion. A on-foil
stencil, cut to any design, and backed by a sheet of the radio-
active paper, and let m the thickness of the wooden dark-slide,
would eventually affect the plate contained m the slide — the
stencil and paint being invisible, of course. This experiment
cannot be done with the ordinary luminous paint or fluorescent
sulphide of zinc, which require continual excitation (exposing to
a strong light) in order to exhibit their luminous properties.
The sulphide of zmc used must contain some bromide of
radium, meso thorium, or similar substance. Radio-active
substances can be distinguished by examining with a strong
magnifying-glass in the dark. If really radio-active (and not
merely fluorescent), the electrons will be seen being discharged
from the substance like a brilliant rocket display.

Mr. J. Malcolm Bird, formerly associate editor of the

1Mr. Fred Barlow, m the Journal of die London S.P.R. for July 1933, re-
produces some excellent ‘spirit extras’ which he made upon a photographic
plate by means ofluminous paint.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 203

Scientific American, described1 in that journal an experiment
with Father C. M. de Heredia, a well-known conjurer and in-
vestigator, in which the latter undertook to transfer a luminous
‘extra’ on to a plate, employing the ordinary zinc sulphide
which requires excitation immediately before use. Mr. Bird
says that ‘Father de Heredia’s sleight of hand was crude, so that
two of three observers were completely aware of what he did,
how and when he did it, and his procedure fell far short of his
claims of duplicating that employed in any photographic
stance-room. But photographically, his trick was a complete
success.

‘He used a newspaper half-tone, coated with zinc sulphide.
He activated it by standing with his back to a large window,
hand behind back, luminous-painted picture in palm, for a
minute or two. He got it on the plate by insisting, in his rSle of
“psychic photographer”, on signing the glass negative immed-
iately after I had signed it, which I had done while he was
engaged in activating his “plant”. In signing, he placed his
cupped left hand over the plate while writing with his right;
the luminous subject for his “spirit extra” was in this left hand
the while. The time afforded by his slow writing of a rather
long signature was ample to produce, on development, a fairly
satisfactory “extra”. The temporary presence of a bright elec-
tric light, or even the use of a flashlight, would be alternatives
as regards the execution of the first step, where daylight was not
sufficiently available; the prompt sequence of the second step
would usually involve the greater finesse . The incident em-
phasises that the slightest move by the psychic photographer to
touch the plates or even to go too near them, invalidates the
result so far as the scientific viewpoint is concerned.’

The effect of radio-active salts on a sensitised plate can be
very easily perceived if the reader will place his luminous watch,
face downwards, on an unexposed plate in the dark-room. If
'See Scientific American, New York, for June 1923, p. 380.

204 Secrets of ‘ Spirit ’ Photography

after a short time the plate is developed, the figures on the
watch will be quite visible in the negative. An ordinary gas
mantle (which contains radio-active compounds) will produce
the same effect, and so will many other substances, including
several ores and minerals. A bottle of radio-active sulphide of
zinc, placed near a stack of plates in a photographic dealer’s
stock-room, will certainly affect some of the plates m the im-
mediate vicinity; and if the reader should ever find an unusual
marking on a plate, it would be as well for him to ascertain
from the shopman whether the plates have been near any radio-
active substances.

As an example of the penetrating power of radio-active
minerals, I am reproducing opposite a print from a photo-
graphic plate affected by the minerals, thorium, uranium and
pitchblende. The experiment was as follows: a new box of
^-plates, with a speed of 250 H. & D., was purchased, and with-
out opening the wrappers or touching in any way, was placed
on the dark-room bench. A number of pieces of minerals, con-
taining elements of high atomic weight, were then placed on
top of the packet and left for nineteen days, care being taken
that the box was not disturbed. The minerals used were (a) a
large piece of Joachimsthal (Bohemia) pitchblende; ( b ) a piece
of thorium; (c) a small piece of uranium nitrate; (d) a pornon
of Cornish pitchblende. Upon development, the top plate was
found to have been much affected by the minerals. The pitch-
blende caused markings in which, with a little imagination, can
be seen ‘faces’ and other objects. The thonum and uranium
minerals were not so effective. Uranium is a metallic consti-
tuent of pitchblende. Thorium being also a metal, the oxide of
which is used in the manufacture of incandescent mantles, that
is why the emanations from a gas mande will affect a photo-
graphic plate. Thonum and uranium are — with radium itself
— the chief radio-active elements, the emanations from which
may be rendered visible by means of a sensitive phosphorescent

Effect of radio-active minerals on sensitised silver emulsion
in an unopened box of photographic plates. The markings
were caused by (a) Joachimsthal pitchblende; ( b ) thorium;
(r) crystal of uranium nitrate; (</) Cornish pitchblende.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 205

screen. Pitchblende is the most important radio-active mineral;
others are autunite, monazite, thonte, camotite, etc.

The remaining plates in the box were affected to a slight
extent. It would be possible to affect the top plate only, if the
minerals were applied for a much shorter duration, and each
plate were wrapped separately — like some brands of pan-
chromatic or X-ray plates. It would also be very easy, by inter-
posing lead stencils (cut m shape of heads with apertures for
eyes, nose, etc.), to produce some sort of ‘faces’ on the sensitised
surfaces m an unopened box of photographic plates.

Speaking of X-ray plates reminds me that a method of
obtaining ‘extras’ on a photographic plate was suggested to me
by Dr. Warner Collins. A stencil of a face or a ‘message’, cut
out of a piece of sheet lead, is placed over an empty X-ray
cassette containing the usual two intensifying screens: the
whole is then exposed to the X-rays. The stencil is then
removed. If any photographic plate or film is placed m contact
with the cassette (which, of course, can be thoroughly ex-
amined) within three hours of the X-raying, the image will be
perfectly reproduced on the sensitised emulsion and will, of
course, develop up in the usual way. This phenomenon —
which Dr. Collins has tested — is due to a ‘lag’ on the part of the
rays, and the method has immense possibilities for the fraudu-
lent ‘spirit photographer’.

Having now revealed to the reader many of the tricks em-
ployed by the dishonest medium, I will now tell him how to
circumvent them. The reader may argue that, though im-
pressed with my account of the possibilities of faking, it would
be quite useless for him to attempt to experiment with a spirit
photographer, as he would not know where to begin in order
to safeguard himself against the many frauds I have described.
But if he has studied the previous chapter on how to test a
medium, he will know that his salvation hes in control.

Pint of all, order some f-plates direct from the manufac-

20 6 Secrets of ‘Spirit’ Photography

turcrs (such as Ilford, Ltd.) and ask diem to X-ray upon each
some sort of design. This design is, of course, latent and invisible
until it reveals itself in the developing dish. Order each plate to
be wrapped separately. Request that the packet be sent to you
per registered post, and, when the parcel arrives, put it in your
safe, unopened, until just before the experiment.

Then select your camera, which, for preference, should be a
simple J-plate wooden stand camera on the usual tnpod. With
it you should use wooden dark-shdes, in preference to the
many forms of metal plate holders. A cheap lens will suffice; one
working at f. 8 is quite suitable, and fast enough for the work
you intend doing. A black focusing cloth completes the outfit.

Make an appointment with the photographic medium and
insist that he comes to your house. You will cut out a good deal
of hocus-pocus by making this your first condition.

Before the arrival of the medium, prepare a room by remov-
ing all ornaments, hangings, furniture, etc., except a couple of
plain wooden chairs. Have a cheerful fire burning m order to
warm the room. Select another room for your studio, and clear
it of all unnecessary furniture and ornaments. If you intend
developing the plates yourself (as you should), you will also
want a dark-room, which should contain no object except what
is absolutely necessary for the development and fixing of the
plates.

When the medium arrives, usher him into the empty room.
He should be greeted by two of your medical friends. Then
invite the medium to remove his clothes and submit himself to
a medical examination. If he is genuine and has nothing to hide,
he will cheerfully consent to this vital fore-control. There is
nothing degrading or undignified about it and an honest
medium will submit to this very necessary and reasonable ex-
amination in the interests of science. If the man is fraudulent
and has something to hide, he will refuse. In that case, send him
home.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 207

We will assume that the medium enters into the spirit of your
experiment and consents to be examined. As he removes his
clothes, take them out of the room and place in another apart-
ment— one to which the medium will not be admitted until the
end of the test. Lock the door and put the key m your pocket.

Your two medical friends will now examine the medium,
and this fore-control should be thorough. See that all body
orifices are explored, paying particular attention to mouth,
teeth, nails of hand and feet (and between the toes), prepuce,
etc. The medical examination completed, the man should be
conducted by two persons (each holding a hand) to the bath-
room. If he really possesses some power of producing a super-
normal picture on a photographic plate, he will cheerfully con-
sent to the hot bath which you have prepared for him. This
particular control is necessary in case some chemical has been
painted on any part of his body— to be used if opportunity
occurs. In any case, his hair must be well washed, and his hands
scrubbed.

The ‘bathroom control’ over, ask the medium to don the
black one-piece tricot tights which are in readiness. These gar-
ments can be purchased, ready-made, at the theatrical cos-
tumiers. Conduct the medium (still with hands held) to the
studio. If you are an expert photographer, I suggest your re-
cording the remainder of the proceedings with a slow-motion
cinematograph camera, which should register every action of
the medium.

Everything in the studio should be in readiness: camera set
up, dark-slides filled, chairs in position. Do not allow the
medium to touch anything nor permit him to approach within
six fret of the camera. If he insists that physical contact with the
camera is necessary, permit him to place his hands on the
camera for a few seconds only, keeping him under the closest
observation. On no account allow him to insert or withdraw
dark-slides or focusing screen, or to tamper with the lens or

208

Secrets of 'Spirit' Photography
camera in any way. Seat the person to be photographed (I sug-
gest one of your medical observers) on the chair, focus him
yourself, and withdraw the slide. Cover with focusing cloth.

The photograph is now ready to be taken. If you are using a
fast brand of plate (anything over 1000 H. & D.) die exposure
should be about five seconds in a well-lighted room, with a lens
aperture of f. 8. But you will find the correct exposure only by
experiment. Remove the cap yourself, make the exposure, re-
place the cap, and the photograph is taken.

Having secured the photograph or photographs, the medium
should be sent home. Escort him to the room containing his
clothes. When he has dressed, pay him his fee and promise to
let him know the result of the experiment.

When the medium has left the house, carefully develop and
fix the plates, using a really ‘safe’ light, which can be purchased
from a reputable photographic dealer. Use Rodinal developer
(simple and non-staining), which should be thoroughly mixed
with the right amount of water. Pour the developer in one
sweep over the plate and rock until the image is fully developed.
The first thing you will probably notice is that the X-ray con-
trol mark is developing, the sitter and background appearing
more slowly. If, in addition to the normal images on the plate,
a ‘spirit’ face appears, you can congratulate yourself that the
experiment has been successful, and it will form the basis for
further tests with more plates, films, and perhaps stereoscopic
and slow-modon cinematograph cameras. Fix the negatives
well and wash them thoroughly. If you have conscientiously
followed my advice re the control of the medium and appa-
ratus, and an ‘extra’ is produced under these conditions, I
should very much like to know the name of the medium.1

1For further examples of die methods of ‘spirit’ photographers, the reader
should consult Leaves from a Psychist’s Case-Book, op. cit., pp. 212-26, and
‘Psychic Photography* Some Scientific Aids to Spurious Phenomena’, by
Harry Price, two artides m the Journal of the American S.P.R. for October
and November 1925. (Vol. XIX, Nos. ioandn.)

XII. Convincing Experiments with a French
Clairvoyante

During a visit to Paris a few yean ago, I was invited to
give two lantern lectures on Eleonore Zugun and die
Schneider boys. During my stay a friend kindly gave me an
opportunity of experimenting with a new French clairvoyante,
Mile. Jeanne Laplace, the latest star to appear above the French

When I first met her, Mile. Laplace was a young French lady
in the early twenties, of attractive appearance, and I was in-
formed that her psychic faculties became apparent soon after
her fiancd was killed somewhere in the French lines during die
Great War. She told me that immediately news was received of
his death she got a message from him at a stance by means of
raps on a small table they were using. They were experiment-
ing at table-turning. Up to this period Mile. Laplace had taken
little mterest in psychic matters, but the experience I have re-
corded led her to experiment with the ornja board and other
mechanical contrivances with considerable success. She then
realised that she possessed the faculty of clairvoyance or, as
Professor Richet would term it, cryptesthesia to a very high
degree. Her powers were brought to the notice of my friend
who, at the time of my experiences with the young lady, had
arranged a series of experiments with her at his house.

There was no previous arrangement that I should have a
sitting with Mile. Laplace. After luncheon at my friend’s house
on Saturday, January 29, 1927, it was casually mentioned to me
that the medium would be coming in the afternoon and that
my host would like me to see her. It was arranged that 1 should

210 Convincing Experiments with a French Clairvoyante

speak no word to her, and my friend undertook not to intro-
duce me or mention my name in any way.

In order to be scrupulously fair to Mile. Laplace and the
reader I will record the feet that the medium must have known
of my presence in Paris. My lectures had been extensively
advertised in the French Press, and as a frequent visitor to my
friend's house she could hardly fail to have become cognisant of
the arrangements which were being made for my visit. Grant-
ing this much, and the fact that she was moving m French
psychic circles, she must also have known about me and my
work.

At four o’clock on Saturday, January 29, my friend ushered
me into his drawing-room, where I found Mile. Laplace seated
in an arm-chair waiting for her next visitor. My host’s young
daughter was seated at a small table with a stenographic
machine at which she is very proficient. She said to the medium:
‘Will you kindly give this gentleman a sitting?’ I did not speak
a word.

I must here interpolate that the moment I entered the room I
was convinced that the psychic knew my name, nationality,
my business in Paris and other details of my life which are com-
mon property among persons interested m psychical research:
being an intelligent girl, she must have known these things.
And I was prepared to discount many of her remarks in conse-
quence.

I seated myself before her, at the same time that my friend
left the room. The psychic had hardly commenced her remarks
— all of which were recorded verbatim — when my host re-
turned with my left-hand glove which he had found on the
hall table. He handed the glove to Mile. Laplace who, it trans-
pired, much prefen to handle something belonging to the
sitter during the stance, in the manner of psychometrists. I want
to emphasise the fact that it was my friend who thought of, and
procured the glove; I was previously unaware of the fact that

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 211

the psychic required a personal article belonging to the sitter.
My host then left us.

I will not weary the reader with the complete verbatim notes
of my sitting, and this chapter never would have been written
if my experiences with this psychic had ended with what she
told me about myself. Also, my modesty would prevent my
giving a recital of all the nice things she said about me ! Many of
her remarks require the test of time m order to gauge the truth
of them. I am to go to India, and Cairo, and Russia, and make a
number of other ‘enjoyable journeys’. She ‘sensed a connection’
between myself and America, Norway and Sweden. The
American connections must have been known to her, as I was
then Foreign Research Officer to the American Society for
Psychical Research. She could not have been aware of the fact
that in a few weeks I was due to lecture at Copenhagen and
Oslo. I had ‘great intuition — almost mediumistic’ and I was
‘always making researches, with always the desire to make
more experiments’. My presence in Paris told her as much.
Many other statements about my character, life, health, etc.,
were given; but I do not think I am doing Mile. Laplace an in-
justice when I say that all these points could have been gleaned
from what she must have known of me and from the fact that
she was m personal contact with me for more than an hour.
1928 was to have been a good year for me.

However, I must record one brilliant ‘hit’ which Mile.
Laplace made. She said — I am referring to the verbatim notes —
‘Sometimes you are sad; you are dwelling on die ineffaceable
past. You are always thinking of someone and trying to bring
back the past; this revival of the past is often in your thoughts.
You are suffering from insomnia. . . .’ This statement was abso-
lutely and peculiarly true. For more than a month I had been
worried over a certain matter and had lost much sleep in conse-
quence. The fact that I was ‘dwelling on the ineffaceable past’
was literally correct. Worry and insomnia are usually strangers

212 Convincing Experiments with a French Clmvoymte
to me, but at the time of my visit to Paris I was suffering from
both in an acute form. Another statement she made was to die
effect that ‘a grandmother was a second mother to you’. This is
correct, my mother having died when young, her mother more
or less taking the place of my maternal parent.

Like a certain historic egg, the results of my stance with Mile.
Laplace were ‘good in parts’. I now come to the brilliant por-
tion of this psychic’s performance and the raison d’itre of this
particular chapter.

After I had thanked Mile. Laplace for her endeavours on my
behalf, I asked her if she would give me her impression of the
original of a photograph which I had m my pocket-book. She
said she would try. I opened my pocket-book and from
amongst about twenty others I extracted at random a small
unmounted photograph of a young girl. The size of the photo-
graph was three inches by two and bore no writing or marks of
any kind. The photograph was of a young girl who was seven-
teen years of age when the picture — full face — was taken. As a
matter of fact, the original of the picture looked younger than
her years when the photograph was secured and might easily
have been judged to be not more than fifteen years old. There
was nothing m the photograph to denote the nationality of the
sitter: it was just a plain full-free photograph of a young girl of,
apparently, fifteen or sixteen years old.

I handed the photograph of the girl to Mile. Laplace without
comment and did not utter a word during the penod when her
‘impressions’ were being recorded on the stenographing ma-
chine. The following verbatim notes are from die record which
my friend kindly sent me, and from some additional impres-
sions concerning the picture which the psychic afterwards gave
me. I must add that the original of the photograph was quite
unknown to anyone in Paris, and it was purely a fortuit-
ous circumstance that I happened to have die portrait in my
pocket:

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 21 3

1. 1 sense a connection between the original of this photo-
graph and your glove which I have just handled.

2. There is a great bond of friendship between the original of
this photograph and yourself— perhaps a family connection. I
sense that you have a great affection (une grande tendresse fam-
iliale) for this young girL

3. She is remarkably endowed as a musician.

4. Very fine physique, fresh peach-bloom complexion, and
very beautiful eyes. Fair hair.

5. Was delicate in childhood.

6. Nervous disposition, but calm m emergency and evenly
balanced mentally.

7. Has a strong character; makes up her mind quickly, and
does not make friends with everybody.

8. Very fond of travelling, and has travelled extensively on
the Continent.

9. 1 hear coughing — a little lung trouble, but nothing serious.

10. Is very intuitive, and very energetic. Is sympathetic; very
loving to those around her; fond of reading and studying. All
persons who come in contact with her think she is a charming
young lady. Could never be unkind; is never uncharitable; has
always a kind word for everyone and readily forgives those who
would injure her.

11. This person will travel extensively ( sortir dans le tnonde)
I get the names Rolf— Walton — Walter.

12. Very determined nature and obstinate when a useful
object can be achieved thereby; very thoughtful for others.

13. Her tastes are very artistic and she is interested in art —
likes quietness.

14. She is fond of movement and social distractions, but I
‘sense* a nature that loves peace and tranquillity, and she some-
times likes to be alone. A happy disposition, sweet but firm.

13. Has had a serious illness in her life. The danger from it has

214 Convincing Experiments with a French Clairvoyante

1 6. She is to beware of fire and things connected with fire.

17. She easily sprains her limbs and has weak ankles. She often
has a slight cough. It would not surprise me if she is ill this
winter.

1 8. This young girl has a particular affection for her father.

19. She is English and her name is Mary. I again get an M ... ,
another name commencing with M. She is twenty-one years
old.

20. Her future will be happy (une vie agriahle).

21. She is living in the country, and has recently changed her
residence.

22. Her father has — or had — some secret trouble.

23. 1 get die name Clark.

24. Her heart is rather weak — it is not serious.

25. All the time I am seeing ‘Mary’ or ‘Marguerite’.

26. By her marriage she will improve her station in life and
have a good posiuon ( une trlsjolie situation) — later a residence m
die country and a flat ( appartement ) m a city where there are very
beautiful monuments.

27. The C6te d’Azur is marked out for this person; she will
travel in the South of France.

28. She will probably visit America.

29. 1 see the discamatc entity of a person, whose name con-
tained a sound like ‘ness’, continually with her. This person has
recendy died.

30. Fond of personal ornaments, jewellery and pretty clothes.

31. Educated in a town away from her home (boarding
school).

32. 1928 will be a good year for her.

33. Especially fond of dogs.

34. She is to beware of a false man who limps.

★ ★ * ★ ★

The name of the original of the photograph which I handed
to Mile. Laplace was Miss Mollie F. I will refer to her as Mollie,

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 215

and will take Mile. Laplace’s impressions in the same way as
recorded, and will arrange my comments and explanations in
the same numerical order:

1 . This is absolutely correct, Mollie having presented me with
the gloves for a birthday gift twelve months previously.

2. This is correct. Not a family connection but a great bond
of affection exists between Mollie, her family, and myself. I re-
garded their house as a second home.

3. Mollie is not ‘endowed’ as a musician, but is intensely de-
voted to music and her home is filled with musical instruments,
some of which she plays.

4. An accurate description of Mollie, but the ‘beautiful eyes’
and ‘fair hair’ can be deduced from the photograph.

5. No; just the usual infan tile ailments.

6. This ‘impression’ is true to life, except that her friends do
not regard Mollie as having a ‘nervous disposition’.

7. An accurate impression of the young girl.

8. This is absolutely correct. She has travelled extensively in
France, Belgium, Switzerland and Holland.

9. No signs of lung affection and is never troubled with
coughing.

10. The impressions given in No. 10 very accurately describe
Molhe’s character and disposition, though at least some of these
attributes could be claimed by the modem cultured young
lady.

11. Though in all probability Mollie will travel, the names
‘Rolf — Walton — Walter’ have so far had no special meaning
for her or her friends, though she has had acquaintances with
these names.

12. This is an accurate description of a number of traits in
Molhe’s character.

13. Mollie is very artistic in her dress, tastes, etc., but the
reference to ‘art’ has a much deeper significance. Her father,
Mr. F., is the head of a large company of fine art publishers, and

1x6 Convincing Experiments unth a French Clcdrvoyante
Mollie herself was connected with a firm which deals in works
of art and who are publishers of etchings, etc.

14. A true description of Mollie’s tastes, pursuits and dis-
position. She is particularly fond of dancing and motoring,
though not perhaps more so than the average modem girl in the
same social position.

15. Incorrect. She has had no serious illness.

16. This, of course, is unanswerable; she has experienced no
danger from fire up to the time of writing.

17. Mollie has weak ankles, but is never troubled with
coughing. She was not ill during the winter of 1927.

18. This impression is peculiarly correct. Though all normal
girls love their fathers, there is an exceptional bond of affection
between Mollie and Mr. F.

19. Though I have known the F. family intimately for so
long, it was not until I started checking Mile. Laplace’s state-
ments that I discovered that Mollie’s baptismal name is Mary.
‘Another name beginning with M’ is obviously ‘Molhe’. I con-
sider this a brilliant ‘hit’. Molhe was twenty-one years old m
October 1926; the reader will remember that she did not look
more than sixteen in her photograph.

20. The conditions of Mollie’s life pointed to a happy future,
and she married a year or so after the experiment here re-
corded. The fret that she is English could, I think, be deduced
from the photograph itself, as her face is undoubtedly that of a
typical, young, cultured English girl

21. That she lives in the country is correct; also die fact that
her people moved into a new residence eight months previously.

22. When I asked Mollie if her father had any ‘secret
trouble’ she answered in the negative; certainly none of the
family knew anything about it. When I asked Mr. F. himself he
admitted that some time ago he was medically examined and
his heart was found to be affected. Nothing immediately seri-
ous, but serious enough for him to decide not to mention die

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 117

heart trouble to his family in case it should unduly alarm them.
The ’secret trouble* is thus well established.

23. Dr. Clark is the name of the medical adviser to the F.
family: a good ‘hit*.

24. Mollie has not a particularly strong heart, but nothing at
all serious. ‘Impressions* 22, 23 and 24 should, I think, be taken
together, as we get in conjunction a positive case of heart
disease, a ‘secret trouble* and the correct name of the doctor
attending the F. family — a really brilliant sequence.

25. ‘Marguerite’ has no special meaning for her.

26. 1 have already stated that Mollie married. It cannot be
said that so far she has ‘improved her station m life*. But she
has a ‘residence in the country’, though the appartement ‘in a
city’ has not yet materialised.

27. The Cote d’Azur is a particularly pleasant spot in Molhe’s
opinion, but she has not yet visited this part of France.

28. At the time of the experiment there was some probability
that Mollie would visit the United States.

29. When Mile. Laplace pronounced the word ‘ness’, I at
first thought she said ‘net’ and that is what I put down m my
notes. I should add that this name was given to me at the con-
clusion of the sitting. When I arrived m England I asked
Mollie if she had recently lost any relative or friend whose name
contained a syllable which sounded like ‘ness’. She could think
of no one. Shortly after I met Mr. F. and asked him if his
daughter had recently lost a relative whose name contained a
sound like ‘ness’. He hesitated a moment and then said, ‘Why,
yes, it must be Mollie’s godmother who died last summer.’
Now Mollie had always thought of her godmother under the
name McGregor. But this name was assumed by deed poll
early in the Great War. Her husband’s name was Steinitz,
which was altered to McGregor under pressure of public
opinion, which regarded the holder of a Germanic name with
deep suspicion. Though Mollie knew of the change of name,

2i 8 Convincing Experiments with a French Clairvoyante
she had forgotten what the original name was, and always
thought of her godmother and her husband as the McGregors.
‘Net’, ‘ness’ and ‘mtz’ arc so very similar that one can hardly
doubt that Mile. Laplace really did sense part of the name of
Mollie’s deceased friend, who was very fond of her godchild.
The fact that the person sensed had ‘recently died' is confirm-
ation of the fret that Mollie’s godmother was the person
indicated in die psychic’s very curious* impression’.

30. Every normal modem young girl is fond of pretty
clothes, jewellery, etc., and Molhe is no exception.

31. This statement is correct; Molhe was educated at a girl’s
public school many miles from her home.

32. The year 1928 was not particularly beneficial for her.

33. Molhe is especially fond of dogs, and this answer is pecul-
iarly correct.

34. The only ‘man who limps’ among her acquaintances is
her dentist: she promised to beware of him !

If the reader will carefully compare Mile. Laplace’s ‘impres-
sions’ with the facts as related by me, I think he will agree that
the psychic succeeded in demonstrating a very brilliant example
of clairvoyance, lucidity, or aryptesthesia — call it what we will.
From the small photograph (bust only) of an unknown person
she was successful in determining the Christian name, age,
personal appearance, character, disposition, temperament and
even the weaknesses of the original. The name of the family
doctor and die ‘secret trouble’ of the father are fine examples
of her extraordinary faculty. That she did not get these im-
pressions from me by telepathy is proved by the fact that I did
not know that the subject’s baptismal name was Mary; nor did
I know anything of the ‘secret trouble’ of the father, or the
name of the family doctor. Also, the Steinitz incident was
absolutely unknown to me; and the fact of the ‘weak ankles’
was quite outside my knowledge.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 219

Eighteen months after my experiment with Mile. Jeanne
Laplace I was again lecturing in Paris and took the opportunity
of having a further sitting with her. I found that her powers had
developed considerably and that she was much surer of herself
when giving ‘impressions’, which came quicker. She also hesi-
tated less in describing what she ‘saw’.

My stance with Mile. Laplace was arranged for three o’clock
in the afternoon of July 7, 1928, and was held in my friend’s
house in the Avenue NieL My host’s sister-in-law took all the
notes, the translation of which forms this report. Mile. Laplace
knows no English, but speaks French with a very clear intona-
tion and there is little ambiguity about her utterances.

The note-taker. Mile. Laplace and I seated ourselves in the
form of an equilateral triangle, the sides of which measured
about nine feet. I stipulated that I should say nothing and that
the psychic should not ask questions; it is recognised that an
astute person can glean quite a lot of information by judicious
‘pumping’.

Mile. Laplace does not go into trance during these experi-
ments m tacnle clairvoyance (psychometry), and she undergoes
no apparent change during these tests. She boasts no ‘spirit
guide’, ‘control’, or ‘trance personality’; her impressions are
delivered m the course of what is very like a friendly chat.

I had purposely prepared no tests for Mile. Laplace. In the
first place, I was uncertain whether the experiments would take
the form of psychometric readings or whether she would de-
scribe the scenes she clairvoyantly visualised. Secondly, I did
not want to load my mind with any pre-arranged ideas as to
how we should conduct the stance in order to lessen, if possible,
the part that telepathy might play in the experiments. After a
number of successful tests I was asked to hand the psychic one
more object, and she said she would describe the mental im-
pressions and scenes that the article inspired.

In the right inside breast pocket of my coat were a number of

2*0 Convincing Experiments with a French Clairvoyante
letters, documents, etc., and at random I plunged my hand in
the pocket and drew forth the first paper with which it came in
contact. It was a letter from Dr. R. J. Tillyard, F.R.S. The
letter was sent from Canada; it was dated June 6, 1928; and
was typewritten upon the embossed notepaper of die hotel
‘Chateau Frontenac’, Quebec. It was of an azure blue colour,
and folded measured five inches by three and one-quarter
inches. It was written on the front inside surface only, and folded
with the blank sheet outwards.

I removed die letter from the envelope, being very careful
that the psychic did not get a glimpse of the latter. I handed her
the letter, on which nothing was visible to show whether it was
written, typewritten, or printed. Mile. Laplace could get no
clues from the letter unless she opened it.

The psychic immediately recorded the following impres-
sions:

1. The writer is coming from a country of the sun.

2. Bcyrout or a port; America. I see a boat.

3. A fortunate and rich person with an agreeable life.

4. A gentleman.

5. The letter crossed the sea.

6. Switzerland is mixed up in it, and Mexico.

7. Capital letters like P or O.

8. Not a relative of the sitter’s.

9. Comes from America, South or North.

10. 1 again get the countries, Spain, Mexico, Switzerland.

11. Person very tail.

12. 1 get the word Rebec.

13. Is not in good health.

14. Is old already.

15. A big business man.

16. 1 see a station with a lot of trains.

17. Is very sympathetic.

18. But violent when passionate and could then kill someone.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 221

19. Two persons prepared letter— one, a secretary, has
touched it.

20. Letter is typewritten.

21. Was written in a hotel.

22. Writer of German or American origin.

23. The writer will die through a railroad or automobile
accident; wheels or rails are bad for him.

24. He will be in a country where there are a lot of insects and
will be stung.

25. He is occupied with spiritualism.

26. He is a doctor and a scientist.

27. He lost a lot of money because he is too honest.

28. He has opportunities for success in politics.

29. 1 see ‘Richard’ written.

30. He has not a long life to live — not very many years.

31. I see a capital B.

32. I see the word ‘Margaret’.

3 3 . I see a crest like a crown or coronet.

34. Not in good health.

35. Arterio-sclerosis is indicated.

36. Has suffered a lot.

37. A widower.

3 8. Has children — daughters — feminine influence is great.

39. Not very lucky; unhappy events m life.

40. 1 see boats— trading boats— connections with spiritualists.

41. A writer; writes for journals.

42. His legs not quite normal; wears spectacles.

43. 1 see a nice dog near him.

44. 1 get the capital L.

45. Not always understood.

46. Has suffered in his youth; has had great struggles — a
moral struggle.

47. Is mediumistic.

48. 1 get the name ‘Jack’.

222 Convincing Experiments with a French Clairvoyante

49. Will have a tragic death — congestion of the brain and
will fall on railway or under car.

At this juncture die psychic paused and for the first time I
spoke to her. I asked her where the writer was then living. She
replied:

50. In London now.

51. He has connections in America and England and visits a
lot of hotels. I then put another leading question. I said, ‘What
is the writer’s name?’ The psychic said:

52. 1 get the name ‘Stearing’.

53. His real home is where the houses are high, and many
industries.

Two distinct mental visualisations appear to be mixed up m
the above record. One is that Dr. Till yard is a ‘big business
man’ and we get the impressions of ‘trading ships’, ‘success in
politics’, ‘the loss of much money’, ‘big buildings’, etc. The
other parallel and true impression is that the writer of the letter
is a scientist and doctor who writes for journals and who is
interested in spiritualism. This is very curious.

An analysis of the senes of impressions reveals the fact that
the expenment was successful, though not quite so brilliant as
the previous ones. Undoubtedly the medium was getting tired
(the siancc lasted two and a half hours) and the tea interval may
have upset conditions somewhat:

1. Correct. Dr. Tillyard had come from Australia, and had
journeyed via San Francisco, Boston and Quebec.

2. ‘America’ and many ‘boats’ are correct; Beyrout seems to
be irrelevant.

3. Dr. Tillyard would not describe himself as ‘rich’, though
perhaps ‘fortunate’. He leads an ‘agreeable life’ undoubtedly.

4. Correct.

5. Yes, from Quebec to England.

6. Mexico means nothing to Dr. Tillyard, but he has spent
happy times in Switzerland.

223

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

7. He went once to Australia on a P. and O. liner.

8. Correct.

9. The writer had just left America.

10. Spam means nothing to him.

11. No.

12. The letters ebec are contained in the word Quebec.
There is also a suggestion, phonetically, in the word Frontenac;
see comment No. 33. An excellent attempt.

13. This is true, unfortunately.

14. Not particularly ‘old*.

15. Not in the generally accepted sense. But I should call Dr.
Tillyard a good business man.

16. Many of them.

17. Peculiarly apt; has a most sympathetic nature.

18. Doubtful.

19. Yes, Dr. Tillyard travelled with a young man named
John Evans, who acted as a sort of secretary. This young fellow
was concerned also m the subject matter of Dr. Tillyard’s
letter.

20. Correct.

21. Correct.

22. No; British, but has twice visited America.

23. These baleful prognostications do not perturb Dr. Till-
yard as they are so very infrequently verified: but in July 1914
Dr. Tillyard was m a big railway accident and at least one paper
reported him killed.

24. Peculiarly apposite. Dr. R. J. Tillyard, F.R.S., is an
eminent biologist and chief entomologist to the Australian
Government. His life is spent in dealing with a ‘lot of
insects’ and he probably will be — and has been — ‘stung’ many
times.

25. Not ‘occupied with’, but much interested in, the pheno-
mena of spiritualism and psychical research.

26. Correct. He is both a doctor and a scientist.

224 Convincing Experiments with a French Clcdrvoymte

37. A year or so ago he informed me he had lost a lot of
money and he now confesses that it was because he was ‘too
honest’.

28. Undoubtedly.

29. Has a great friend, Richard, in Switzerland.

30. An insurance company would not call his a 'good life’,
but two years ago a medical board informed him he was fit
enough for a long lease of useful activity.

31. Dr. Tillyard cannot connect, except as the initial of a
celebrated Australasian adjective !

32. The word ‘Margery’ formed part of the text of die letter
being psychometnsed.

33. The letter bears an embossed coronet — part of the crest
of the ‘Chateau Frontenac’ hotel. Excellent attempt.

34. See comment No. 13.

35. A correct diagnosis. Dr. Tillyard informs me that he
suffers from arterio-sclerosis in the back.

36. In health— yes; and perhaps in other ways.

37. No, his wife is still living.

38. Has four daughters and he admits that his home life is un-
doubtedly blessed by ‘feminine influence’. He has no sons.

39. He would not call himself unlucky. Everybody has ‘un-
happy events in life’, and Dr. Tillyard is not an exception.

40. See comments Nos. 2 and 25.

41. Decidedly. Has ‘written for journals’ for many yean.

42. He wears spectacles. His legs are perfectly normal.

43. He once lost a dog, ‘Wallace’, of which he was exceed-
ingly fond.

44. Means nothing to him.

4$. Like the rest of us!

46. Dr. Tillyard informs me that he has had great struggles
incidental to his attaining to eminence in his profession, though
now his chief trouble (at any rate m recent yean) is his health.

47. Yes, in a minor degree; he is an excellent sitter.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 225

48. Dr. Tillyard's name is John, though he is never called
Jack.

49. See comment No. 23.

50. Correct.

51. Correct.

52. Means nothing to him; phonetically, it is a little like
‘Tillyard’.

53. There are neither ‘high houses’ nor ‘many industries’ at
Nelson, N.Z., or Canberra, Australia, his ‘real homes’. But the
psychic may have referred to London, his original home.

Dr. Tillyard has supplied some of the above personal com-
ments to Mile. Laplace’s ‘impressions’, and permits me freely to
publish them. He agrees with me that the psychic’s description
of himself and his work is an excellent one. A person not pos-
sessing this peculiar power of clairvoyance or lucidity would
gam little information from a perusal of his letter, if read nor-
mally. Not all the facts were known to me, so telepathy is
ruled out to a certain extent.

I regret that the science of metapsychics is not advanced suffi-
ciently for me to offer the reader an explanation of the fore-
going two brilliant examples of Mile. Laplace’s faculty. One of
these days, I suppose, some investigator will stumble upon the
laws necessary for the successful and certain repetition of these
phenomena, under any prescribed conditions. Until then we
must content ourselves with piling up data.

XIII. Rudi Schneider: the Last Phase

I am continually being asked what has happened to Rudi
Schneider. As I brought him to England m 1929 and was
responsible for his introduction to British scientists, it is as-
sumed that I am still his confidant in matters psychic. Well, I
am not — and for the very best of reasons.

Who is Rudi Schneider? It seems rather ridiculous to put
such a question before the reader, but, as there may be some
who have no knowledge of this famous Austrian medium, I
will give a brief sketch of his history.

I can best describe Rudi as the younger brother of the
equally famous Willi Schneider — a youth who, a few years ago,
puzzled half the savants of Europe. In the Munich stance-room
of Dr. Albert Freiherr von Schrcnck-Notzuig I have seen a
musical-box start and stop of its own volition at word of com-
mand— and wind itself up! I have seen a half-formed hand or
pseudopod’ pick up a white handkerchief six times m succes-
sion and wave it under a red lamp. I have seen a black psychic
stump attach itself to a handkerchief and have a playful tug-of-
war with my neighbour. And these miracles — and many others
— I have seen over and over again under practically my own
conditions, in a room filled with scientists and where, one
would imagine, fraud was absolutely out of the question. And I
was invited in order to detect trickery, if it existed! And all the time
die young man (a mere lad of eighteen) responsible for these
marvels was in an alleged trance, breathing rapidly, and held by
two persons as in a vice. That young man was Willi, the
brother of Rudi.1 Soon after, Willi ceased exercising his psy-
1For a full report of thae fittings, tee ‘Convincing Phenomena at Munich’,
by Hairy Price, in Psyche, London, April 1933.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 227

chic powers (or lost diem) and became a dental surgeon.
During the period that Willi was losing his interest in psychics,
Rudi was gradually acquiring die mediumistic technique of his
brother. Unkind people said that Willi merely taught him die
tricks of the trade.1 We will not discuss that question here, but
the fact remains that the phenomena, the stance conditions, and
the peculiar violent clonic spasms and rapid breathing of the
trance were the usual features at stances with both boys. Even
the same ‘spirit* or trance personality, ‘Olga’, operated through
the brothers at different periods.

When Schrenck-Notzing realised that Willi’s powers were
waning, he turned his attention to the development of Rudi’s
mediumship and arranged with Karl Krall (of ‘Elberfeld
horses’* fame, and a well-known psychist) that an intensive in-
vestigation of the boy should be carried out. But Fate decreed
otherwise, and death removed both Krall and Schrenck within
a few weeks of each other. This was early in 1929. Almost by
the same post that I learnt of Schrenck’s death I was offered
Krall’ s magnificent laboratory, and I at once hurried to the
Bavarian capital. It was a journey destined to become his-
torical.

It was m March 1929 that I once more found myself in
Munich. I discovered that Willi had passed his final dental ex-
amination, and that Rudi was sail in the capital, more or less
undecided as to his future. He was looking for a position as a
motor mechanic — his trade. I found him doing odd jobs for an
electrician named Amereller. By the kindness of the Frau
Baronin von Schrenck-Nomng a test stance with Rudi was
arranged for me the day after my arrival — the first since
Schrenck’s death. Of course I knew Rudi well as I had had a
number of sittings with him m his home-town of Braunau-

1See Bulletin IV, National Laboratory of Psychical Research. Plate XXII
shows Willi photographed simnlating phenomena.

•See Maeterlinck’s The Unknown Guest, London, 1914.

228

Rudi Schneider: the Last Phase

am-Inn, OberSsterreich (also die birthplace of Adolf Hitler):
those in 1926 were particularly brilliant1

The test stance was to ascertain whether Rudi had lost his
mediumship. I found that he had not, and at once invited him
to London for some experiments under scientific conditions.
He accepted.

Just previous to their deaths, Schrenck and Krall had per-
fected an electrical system of controlling a medium which was
based on an ‘electrical arm-chair’ which I had invented some
years previously. Schrenck’s device immobilised the hands and
feet of both medium and principal controller. At the first Lon-
don experiments I extended this electrical system so that the
hands and feet of all the sitters were also controlled. This was
accomplished by every person wearing metallic gloves and
socks connected in series with a red six-light indicator which
immediately told us whether the chain formation (holding
hands) was broken and whether anyone’s feet were not in
contact with his neighbour’s. Rudi’s limbs (metal-cased, like
the sitters’) were part of four electrical circuits, so that we could
tell instantly whether a hand or foot were free. This electrical
control sounds complicated, but actually it was very simple —
and fraud-proof. We had to do something of the sort as the
sittings were always held in almost complete darkness.

During 1929-30 Rudi gave me two series of sittings which
can be described as brilliant. The most varied phenomena were
witnessed. Quoting from my book, Rudi Schneider ,* I find that
die following alleged supernormal manifestations were wit-
nessed: floating, levitation, and other movements of a coffee
table, waste-paper basket, hand-bell, handkerchief, etc.; the
tying of knots in handkerchiefs; writing on paper by pseudopod

1See my report. The Phenomena of Rudi Schneider', m die Journal of the
American S.P.R., November 1921$.

•See Rudi Schneider, a Scientific Examination of His Mediumship, by Harry
Price, Methuen, London, 1930.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 229

or psychic ‘terminal'; shaking of cabinet curtains as if by a vio-
lent wind; playing of toy zither in mid-air; raps, knocks, etc.;
the production of pseudopods resembling arms, hands, ‘child-
like form’, ‘snow-man’, etc., all showing volition and, some-
times, intelligence; cold breezes, apparent fill in temperature
of cabinet ( outside of which Rudi usually sits), etc.

It must be admitted that the above list is a formidable one.
And I believe that all these phenomena were genuine. The
electrical control functioned perfectly and I do not believe it
was possible for either Rudi or any person to have produced
these manifestations normally, under the conditions. Rudi
himself was controlled tactually by two persons in addition to
his being connected up to four separate electrical circuits.

I had invited a French investigator to two of the 1929 stances
and he was so impressed by what he saw that, on my recom-
mendation, he suggested to Rudi that a series of experiments
should be held in Paris under his direction. The boy consented
and, for fifteen months, spent most of his time in the French
capital. The Paris visit, I think, proved fatal to his mediumship.

The chief feature of the French experiments was the use of
infra-red rays to guard the object (often a handkerchief) to be
operated upon psychically, just as they guarded the treasures at
the Persian Exhibition at Burlington House. As regards tele-
kinesis (the supernormal displacement of objects), the French
experiments were disappointing, but it was claimed that a won-
derful discovery had been made: nothing more or less than
that Rudi externalised a certain psychic ‘force’, ‘energy’, or
‘power’ that affected the infra-red rays, and which could be
measured. (I am avoiding technicalities.) When the French re-
port was issued, these alleged infra-red absorptions were the
sole topic among psychists. The report was packed with graphs
and diagrams which looked very impressive — assuming that
every precaution had been taken against fraud, mal-observa-
tion, and experimental error.

230 Rudi Schneider: the Last Phase

The French report had a curious effect upon me. Why, I
asked myself, had I not discovered these alleged psychic emana-
tions—if they existed? Hoping to find an answer to the riddle, I
decided to invite Rudi to London again. He accepted, and
arrived in February 1932. So for the third time in three yean
Rudi found himself in my laboratory for a series of experi-
ments.

Since Rudi’s last visit to me, the market pnce of phenomena
had advanced considerably. From die modest £3 per week
(plus his board and lodging) which we paid him in 1929, the
cost had risen in 1932 to £20 per week (including the expenses
of his sweetheart, whom he insisted upon bringing with him).
This commercialisauon of his mediumship contributed, I
think, to his downfall — psychically speaking.

For the 1932 series of experiments I decided to revert to the
old-fashioned (but still popular) chain formation of sitters and
tactual control of the medium. The reason I did this was be-
cause I intended using various pieces of new apparatus, includ-
ing an infra-red ray installation and an electrically-operated
automatic camera, which I invented specially to photograph
telekinetic movements of objects m complete darkness. As one’s
hands and feet are completely immobilised when wearing the
metallic gloves and socks of the electrical controlling system,
one cannot manipulate delicate instruments. Hence my return
to the tactual control of the medium for the 1932 experiments.

When I was about to commence the experiments, I had
rather a shock. The organiser of the French tests wrote and
warned me to be on my guard against a certain person X who
had been present at his siancts. My French friend said that ‘if
there are no phenomena, X tries to make them’. This was un-
fortunate, as X insisted upon accompanying the medium to
London. But having been put on our guard, we took the neces-
sary precautions. What was much more serious was the fact that
there was no mention of the confederate in the French report —

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 231

which made the reader wonder if other disturbing facts were
omitted.

Rudi stayed with us from February 4. to May 6, 1932. He
gave us twenty-seven stances. The most varied and — appar-
ently— supernormal phenomena were witnessed, but unfor-
tunately I did not see some of the best of them as they were
produced in my absence. The manifestations included levita-
tions of the familiar waste-paper basket; the tying of tight
knots m handkerchiefs; movements of the cabinet curtains;
playing of the toy zither; ringing of hand-bell; materialisation
of what appeared to be a ‘small hand’ and ‘closed-up fist’ (not
seen by me); the passing round of cigarettes by an alleged
spirit hand; the alleged abnormal distribution of violets (pro-
vided by a sitter), etc.

The infra-red ray experiments were disappointing. Although
with a home-made apparatus we got movements of the needle
of the milliammeter, proving that something was interfering
with the rays, on a very sensitive professional instrument sup-
plied, and superintended by Messrs. Radiovisor (Parent) Ltd.,
absolutely nothing was obtained. I came to the conclusion that
the results with the home-made infra-red absorption apparatus
were due to experimental error.

We did much better with the automatic electrical photo-
graphic set-up, which I must explain. I made a small table, die
loose top of which was so counterpoised on knife edges that the
weight of a handkerchief on one side would just bring it to rest
(like a pair of balances). The other side of the counterpoise was
fitted with a strip of copper which, when the handkerchief was
removed, would cause the table-top to over-balance, coming
to rest on another piece of copper, closing an electrical circuit,
and firing one or more Vaku-Blitz flash bulbs. As, in the dark,
three or more cameras, with their caps removed, were focused
on the handkerchief, it is obvious that any displacement of die
handkerchief would close the circuit, ignite the bulbs, and auto-

232 Rudi Schneider: the Last Phase

matically photograph the handkerchief, plus whatever was
moving it— if photographable.

At two stances we secured brilliant photographs of a hand-
kerchief rising in the air or just o£f the edge of the table. But at
the twenty-fifth stance on April 28, 1932, 1 made a discovery
which compelled me to alter completely my views concerning
Rudi’s mediumship, and severely shook my faith in the boy’s
integrity. At this stance we had used the automatic photographic
apparatus and, as was my custom, I developed the plates the
next morning. By sheer coincidence, just as I was gomg mto the
dark-room, Rudi and Mitzi (his fiancee) called and accom-
panied my secretary and me into the room. They said they
would like to sec me develop the plates. I developed the three
plates in Rudi’s presence and when I removed them from the
fixing bath I saw immediately what had happened. The pic-
tures revealed the fra that Rudi had managed to free his left
arm and put it behind his back. The photographs show it
sticking straight out behind him. The handkerchief had been
snatched off the counterpoise and dropped behind it. Before
Rudi could get his arm into control again, the flash — or rather
flashes — ignited and the incident was photographically re-
corded automatically.

When I confronted Rudi with the evidence, he did not know
what to say. His first reaction was that the ‘arm’ was a spirit one
— until I pointed out that the ‘spirit’ in question was wearing
my pyjama jacket, a garment Rudi always donned during a
statue. I formally charged him with having freed his arm, and
suggested his having moved the handkerchief from the coun-
terpoise himself. He made no reply.

These very illuminating photographs proved, of course, that
our reverting to the old form of tactual control was a mistake —
such a thing could not have happened under the electrical con-
trolling system. I was the principal controller at this unlucky —
or lucky — stance, and I admitted quite candidly that Rudi had

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 233

evaded me. In his trance — real or alleged — Rudi is in a state of
constant, and often violent, motion. This, coupled with the
clonic movements (so-called), makes it difficult to hold the boy.

We did not use the photographic apparatus again, and Rudi
departed for Austria the following week. Curiously enough,
the last stance (the 26th) which I attended with Rudi was good.

Rudi has been accused of producing spurious phenomena
many times, by many persons. In 1924 Professors Meyer and
Prabram, of Vienna, accused him of evading control. On
April 28, 1933, Professor Prabram wrote me: ‘We know that
Rudi evaded control at the [Vienna] seances and we have no
reason to believe that any of the phenomena we saw were of
supranormal character.’1 Dingwall, Vmton, Bird, Prince and
Professor von Hofsten of Uppsala have, in turn, accused Rudi
of evading control; but it remained for me to produce the first
piece of photographic evidence of this manoeuvre.

My report* of our 1932 experiments was published early 111
1933. During the interval Rudi had again visited London at the
invitation of another group and, although staying for three
months at a hotel within five minutes’ walk of my laboratory,
never came near me and did not write. When my report was
published, a senes of extraordinary happenings occurred. In the
first place, Rudi denied all knowledge of the incident of die
‘spirit arm’ ! He said he was not present when I developed the
plates showing his evasion of control, and knew nothing about
it! This was rather foolish of him, as my secretary was a witness
to all that occurred, and on December 28, 1932, he wrote to me
and said that he was ‘very sad that I must rehabilitate myself
after so many experiments’. On March 7, 1933, he wrote

1See Neue Freie Presse, Feb. 1 j, 1924: Neues 8 Uhr Blatt, Feb. 14, 1924, and
Reidmost, Feb. 16, 1924. (All published in Vienna.) Translations are printed
m Bulletin V, National Laboratory of Psychical Research, London, 1933.

•‘An Account of Some Further Experiments with Rudi Schneider: a
Minute-by-Minute Record of 27 Stances’, Bulletin IV of the National
Laboratory of Psychics] Research, London, 1933.

>34 RWi Schneider: the Last Phase

accepting another invitation for some experiments (he did not
keep his promise), and added, ‘I hope to win again, your com-
plete confidence.’1

Another curious result of the publication of my report was
die fact that a number of people who previously had taken
merely an academic interest m Rudi’s phenomena now became
actively interested in the boy and his doings. For example, the
London Society for Psychical Research arranged a series of
sittings which commenced in October 1933, just four and a half
years after Rudi’s first visit to my laboratory. The sittings were
organised as an attempt to confirm the infra-red phenomena
alleged to have been produced in Pans, ‘to test the alleged tele-
kinetic powers of the medium’, etc. The experiments were
continued until March 1934-

The result* of these London expenmen ts can be summed up
in a very few words. Fifty-five sittings were held, and not a single
phenomenon was witnessed during the six months the boy was
under examination. The floating paper basket, the bellying
curtains, die knots in handkerchiefs, the pseudopods — they
waited in vain for them. Not even a supernormal rap was
heard. No evidence was secured that he could externalise any
psychic ‘power’ or ‘force’, and the Pans infra-red absorption
claims were not endorsed.* Some humorist suggested that I had
frightened all the ‘power’ out of him, but it so happens that
after he left us in May 1932 he produced for the pnvatc London
group (in the autumn of 1932) the most spectacular pheno-
mena.4 This was before those devastating photographs were
published. Also, after he left the S.P.R., a few private sittings

ipor dus correspondence, see Bulletin V of the National Laboratory of
Psychical Research, London, 1933.

•Sc eProceetkngs, S.P.R.,Part 137, 1934.

•See ’Hat Rudi Schneider m Paris geschwindelt?' by Karl Foltz, in Unsere
Wek , Leipzig, July 1935. Thu article u an analysis of die Pans experiments.

•See Proceedings, S.P.R., Vol XLl.p.ajj/.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 235

were held by some of his friends, at which it is claimed that
genuine phenomena were witnessed.

One interesting point was settled at the last London sittings.
A peculiarity of the Schneider brothers’ trance is a very quick
and shallow breathing, accompanied by violent dome spasms.
This rapid respiration sometimes reaches two hundred and
sixty cycles per minute — or even more. This trance breathing
was hailed by the uninitiated as so remarkable— or even
supernormal — that a gramophone record was made of it and,
very unfortunately, broadcast on two occasions. It remained
for Dr. C. G. Douglas, F.R.S., of Oxford, the authority on
respiration, to prove that Rudi’s trance breathing is absolutely
normal, and no indication whatsoever as to the genuineness of
the trance. Dr. Douglas collected samples of the medium’s
breath m Douglas bags and analysed them. (The samples were
taken when the boy was m the so-called trance state.) The
oxygen consumption corresponded to a man walking four
miles per hour. As Rudi is always in violent motion during this
alleged trance, this oxygen consumption is m no way excessive.
As a matter of fact, several people have since imitated Rudi’s
trance breathing without difficulty. Rudi’s friends had con-
tended that it was impossible for a normal person to duplicate
this rapid breathing without going into convulsions. Fortu-
nately, science was able to correct this impression.

Rudi has not visited London since the fiasco of the 1933-4
experiments, and I understand he is now married to Mitzi and
has settled down at Wcyer in Obcrosterreich. It was a sad end-
ing (I refer to the fiasco, not the marriage) to a mediumistic
career that, at one time, threatened to make obsolete our text-
books of physics, biology and chemistry. But at present we
have no need to revise our views on the nature of these sub-
jects. Just as Willi Schneider and Rudi Schneider acquired the
same stance technique and produced the same phenomena, so
both brothers have come to die same unsatisfactory end. I be-

23 6 Rudi Schneider: the Last Phase

lieve that both boys have produced genuine phenomena; I am
likewise convinced that they have been responsible for die
spurious variety. After careful study of my last report, I now
doubt whether any of the interesting manifestations we saw in
1932 were genuine. We proved that Rudi could free a hand, and
that, of course, makes the whole of his mediumship suspect.
But I reiterate that he could not fire a hand in my 1929-30 ex-
periments. In conclusion, I must acknowledge that I owe the
Schneider boys something for having sustained my interest in
psychical research over many years; and for so cheerfully sub-
mitting themselves to scientific examination under laboratory
conditions — condinons invariably refused by the cheap psychic
faker.

XIV. New Light on the Abrams ‘ Magic Box’?

I am sure that if the late Dr. Albert Abrams could read this
chapter he would have a much greater shock than could be
got out of his own ‘magic box’, or any other piece of the
weird electrical apparatus devoted to his ‘electronic’ system of
curing diseases by the well-known ‘Abrams rays’.

I need not inform readers that the Abrams treatment was the
centre of a violent controversy m the United States a few years
ago. A pronounced echo of the storm reached the shores of
Great Britain, and medical men and psychists took a lively
interest m the treatment and alleged cures. The controversial-
ists eventually divided themselves into three camps, viz.:
(i) those who were convinced that the Abrams treatment did
all that was claimed for it, in the way that was claimed for it; (2)
those who were convinced that the alleged ‘cures’, if genuine,
were effected by psychic means, or by ‘suggestion’ on the part
of the E.R.A. practitioner; (3) those who were certain that the
whole affair was a money-making ‘frame-up’ on the part of a
Yankee medical husder who ought really to be in die ranks of
the conjurers. In 1924 the Scientific American published an im-
portant expost, and this, of course, strengthened the hands of
the orthodox praeddoners and the sceptics.

In England the claims of the Abrams apologists created very
considerable interest, and Dr. C. B. Heald, the medical adviser
to die Department of Civil Aviation, Air Ministry, decided to
start an investigation in this country. He selected a number of
gentlemen to help him, and formed a committee which in-
cluded a conjurer. Sir Thomas Horder became chairman, and
early in 1925 he communicated to the Royal Society of Medi-

238 New Light on the Abrams ‘ Magic Box'?

cine die results of their experiments.1 The committee found
that certain substances, such as drugs, sputa, blood, etc., when
placed in the apparatus, did effect changes in the abdominal wall
of the subject who could feel his muscles of that region contract
when certain specimens were placed m the proper position in
the ’magic box’. The committee found nothing whatsoever
that would lead diem to think that the so-called ‘rays’ had any
curative effect or that the ‘electronic’ treatment would be bene-
ficial in the treatment of diseases. But they found that a real pheno-
menon occurred.

I will now relate a curious discovery I made m connection
with a powerful wireless set I installed early m 1924. 1 feel con-
vinced that there is a connection between the results I obtained
and die ‘reactions’ caused by Abrams’s ‘magic box’. I will give
the account of my experiments m considerable detail in case any
of my readers wish to repeat the experiments or make others.
My research work was the result of an accident, as I have done
very lmlc experimental wireless. I will add, however, en
passant, that I made and used what I believe was the first port-
able wireless set constructed in Great Britain. This was in
April 1899, the stations being the tower of St. Peter’s Church,
Brockley, and the top of Askc’s Hatcham Boys’ School. A
short account of the experiments appeared m the Press at the
time.

My wireless installation, which was home-made, was a five-
valve set with approved reaction. It was a very powerful re-
ceiving set employing two stages of high frequency amplifica-
tion, one detector and two stages of low frequency amplifica-
tion. Tuned anodes were used on both high frequency stages.
The set was very sensitive and selective and much more careful
adjustment was required than when using a simpler set, such
as a one-, two- or three-valve instrument. The tuning of the

1See ‘The Magic Box. Tests of “Abrams Rays” ’ in the Daily Telegraph
for Feb. 24, 1925.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 339

set was extremely critical. Reaction was obtained by die
reaction coil reacting on die anode coil. This was an approved
method of reaction, and was not likely to cause re-radiation
troubles. Of course, the set used plug-in coils. The set was made
up according to the circuit illustrated in the booklet published
by Brown Bros., Ltd., of Great Eastern Street, London, E.C.2,
and gave every satisfaction.

The aerial used was the standard single-wire type, one hun-
dred feet in length. The ‘earth’ was a good one, consisting of a
number of brass rods, buried four feet in the ground, not more
than ten feet from the instrument (though, as a matter of fact,
the set functioned without an ‘earth’ at all). Soldered to the
brass rods were copper wires converging to a single wire run-
ning to the ‘earth’ terminal of instrument. The coils used in
the experiments were a No. 200 Bumdept on the aerial; a reac-
tion coil. No. 300 Igranic; and two anode coils, Bumdept No.
300. The five valves used were as follows: three Marconi
Type R.jv., Nos. H19562, E20924 and E20933; the amplify-
ing valves being two Marconi, Type L.S.5, Nos. C5462 and
C5471. The batteries used were low tension, six-volt Exide
accumulators, and high tension ioo-volt Hellesen dry battery.
The loud-speaker (which was always connected during the
period of the experiments) was a pleated vellum (hornless)
Lumi&re model, No. 5288, and was purchased in Paris.

I will now relate how I came to make a curious discovery
connected with my instrument. Early m November 1924 1 was
in Paris, and from the ‘Radiola’ Company1 I purchased, for
thirty-nine francs, an accessory called a ‘filter’ (fltre ), which
was intended to be placed m the aerial circuit (between aerial
terminal and aenal lead-in) m order to ‘filter’ the ether waves
and purify the incoming signals, producing a much more faith-
ful and sweeter reproduction of both music and speech. This it
certainly did. I must add that the ‘filter’ was really a condenser
1Sod&£ Fran^aue Radio-Electrique, 79 Boulevard Hauwmann, Paris.

240 New Light on the Abrams ‘ Magic Box*?
composed of thin mica plates. When fixing die ‘filter’ to die
aerial terminal of my instrument (during which operation I
was receiving signals from 5 XX, die Chelmsford high-power
station of the British Broadcasting Company, Ltd.), and when
I had the end of the aenal m my left hand, I happened to touch
the positive terminal of the ‘filter’ (the negative wire was fixed
to the instrument) and to my surprise the etheric waves —
although passing through my body — were being converted and
were operating the loud-speaker, the music (a band) being heard
plainly, but not quite so loud as when the aerial was connected
directly to the instrument. In order to get the incoming signals
of greater strength, I adjusted the valves, at the same time in-
creasing reaction somewhat. I then felt a slight tingling
(reminiscent of ‘pins and needles’) in my right hand, which was
soil holding the positive terminal of the ‘filter’. I again ad-
justed the three R. 5 V. valves (I found that more current passing
through the two amplifying valves made no difference) and at
once lost the tingling sensation. It was a long time before I
recovered the exact position of the three valves by means of
which I received the sensation in my hand. Adjusting the con-
densers of the instrument merely lessened the strength of the
‘tingling’. I then changed hands, holding the aerial wire m my
right hand and the ‘filter’ positive terminal in my left. I still
detected the angling, but in my left hand and (though this
may have been imagination) the sensation was not quite so
marked. I then inserted in the instrument the necessary cods to
pick up London and other British stations direct, but I could get
nothing whatever. The resistance of my body was much too
great to allow of the waves being strong enough to operate die
loud-speaker, or even the head-phones, the reason being, of
course, that London and other British stations were transmit-
ting on a power of (I think) two and one-half kilowatts, whilst
Chelmsford was working an a power of sixteen or eighteen
kilowatts. The following Sunday I repeated the experiments and

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 241

tried also getting the same results from the Paris ‘Radiola’ trans-
mission, which was then using a power of about five kilowatts.
I could still feel a slight tingling during some of the experiments,
but owing to the greater distance, Paris came in comparatively
weak. I could get no results when the ‘earth’ was disconnected.

The first experiments recorded above I thought interesting,
but attached no particular importance to them. A week or so
later I attended a sitting at the rooms of the British Society for
Psychical Research, who were experimenting with the Aus-
trian medium, Willi Schneider, whom I had already investi-
gated at Munich. At this sitting was Mr. W. Whately Smith,1
who was then a member of Sir Thomas Horder’s committee
which was working on the Abrams investigation. Mr. Smith
mentioned to me casually that during some of their experi-
ments, the subject could feel a sensation in the muscles of the
abdominal wall when certain drugs which were placed on the
electrodes in the famous box were being used. I at once recalled
my experiments with the French ‘filter’ I had used on die wire-
less set, and wondered if any connection could be found between
the sensations I felt and the Abrams ‘reactions’. I decided to try,
and at the end of February I spent an entire week-end and
several evenings in my home trying out in various ways sub-
stances which I had m my private laboratory and dark-room, or
in my household. Unfortunately, living in a country village, I
could get no suitable assistance and had to work single-handed.
If my readers are wondering what the connection is between
the Abrams rays and psychical research, I candidly confess that I
do not know— but there may be something. In any case, the psy-
chical researchers and the magicians have taken an extraordinary
interest m the Abrams controversy and this must be my excuse
for incorporating m this volume the results of my experiments.

I will now give some data of the conditions, etc., under
which I worked. The apparatus, valves, etc., were identical to
1Now Mr. W. Whately Carington.

242 New Light on the Abram * Magic Box*?

those already described. My general health was good (it is
probable that the health of a subject makes a vast difference in
the reactions felt), but I was recovering from an influenza cold.
The experiments took place m my study, heated by an anthra-
cite stove, night and day, to an average temperature of 65°
Fahrenheit. The weather (on the 28th of February and the 1st of
March) was sunny, with a somewhat cold wind. The baro-
meter was steadily rising (from 28-9 to 29-6).

Having decided to test a number of substances by interposing
them in the aerial circuit of my wireless set, I had to invent or
design a suitable container to hold my chemicals, acids, etc.
After some few experiments I devised a piece of apparatus
illustrated on opposite page.

A is a one-ounce bottle of amber or clear glass, with a vulcan-
ite or rubber cork, B. In the cork are drilled two f-mch holes
into which are inserted two thin brass rods (electrodes) C, D.
(For acids, etc., thin carbon rods should be used.) The outer
and upper ends of the brass rods have two brass slips (£, F)
soldered to them. In the ends of the slips farthest from the cork
are screwed two ordinary brass terminals, G, H. To the left-
hand terminal is connected the aerial wire. To the nght-hand
terminal is attached a piece of flex connected to a brass cylinder,
I. This cylinder is held in the left hand of the subject, whose
right hand grips a similar cylinder artached by means of a piece
of flex to die aerial terminal of the wireless instrument. It will
be obvious from the description and illustration of this piece of
apparatus — which I have named the Detector — that the in-
coming etheric waves can pass to the cylinder I, the subject, and
die wireless instrument, only by means of the medium which is
placed in the bottle. A; the glass botde and rubber cork acting
as insulators, of course. I had not the slightest idea whether any
reaction could be felt by the subject (myself) through using the
substances I had at my disposal, though I determined to per-
severe in order to sec if I could get ‘sensations' similar to those I

Confusions of a Ghost-Hunter

The Detector

A, onc-ounce glass bottle; B, vulcanite or rubber cork;

C, D, electrodes of brass or carbon; E, F, brass rectangles;

G, H, brass terminals; I, brass cylinder connnected to H
by flex. The substance to be tested is placed in container
A, the ‘subject’ holding in his left hand cylinder I, his
right hand holding a similar cylinder attached to the aerial
terminal of wireless instrument. The ‘etheric reactions* are
felt in the right hand.

had experienced through the mica plates of die ‘filter’, I was
very agreeably surprised to find that several substances reacted
—some with the femiliar tingling sensations of the ‘filter’, and

244 New Light on the Abrams 4 Magic Box'?

others much stronger to the extent of feeling a kind of stiffness
or crampedness in the hand holding the cylinder attached to die
wireless set. Whether I held this cylinder with my left or right
hand made no difference (except that I could not feel it so
strongly with my left hand) — it was always the hand holding
the cylinder attached to the instrument that experienced the
'reaction'.

I will now give die table of substances used, with their
strengths and other particulars. The various chemicals, etc.,
were taken from my private laboratory and are what I used in
photography, microscopy, etc. These substances were placed in
the detector (usually in a liquid form), so that whatever the
position of die detector, die contents of the container were con-
necting the two brass electrodes. The instrument was set as
already described; Chelmsford (usually) or Pans (Radiola)
were always transmitting when the experiments were earned
out, and the signals were always audible (except where other-
wise mentioned) on the Lumifcre loud-speaker. The table will
be found more or less self-explanatory, but I must say a word
about die way I have recorded the strength of the reactions felt.
If nothing is placed in the column next to the substance being
tested, it is understood that no reaction was felt. If a note of in-
terrogation is inserted, the result was doubtful. The most in-
tense reaction is marked <5, the least -5. Variations between
these two numbers are marked according to what I estimated to
be the strength of die reaction felt. The substances are listed in
the order in which I tested them, but it is obvious that eventu-
ally a list must be compiled commencing with the subjects
giving the greatest reaction. I am not aware if the wave-length
makes any difference to the results, but for the sake of com-
pleting the data, I must mention that Chelmsford (5XX) trans-
mitted on a wave-length of 1600 metres and Paris (Radiola) on
a 1780 wave. Other particulars can be seen from the table (see
pages 246 and 247).

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 245

An analysis of the Table of Substances will show some very
carious results. Out of ninety-two substances tried, only nine-
teen showed reactions. Out of these nineteen, eight were
doubtful, which leaves eleven positive reactions, making just
over nine per cent, ‘positive’ of the substances experimented
with. The reader cannot help noticing that the salts of die
various metals yielded good reactions. Of the ten positive
reactions we find that five of them (potassium ferricyanide,
nitrate of sdver, chloride of platinum, silver bromide and ferro-
cerium) are metallic salts or a metal. I am under the impression
that I could have got a reaction from chloride of gold had I
used a stronger solution — but my stock of this salt was limited.
The reaction produced through the nitrate of silver caused a
sensation in my right hand as if the skin were being drawn up.
This is die strongest reaction I felt and was quite unlike the
tingling sensauon of the reaction caused by the chloride of
platinum or the silver bromide. Although I got such good
results from the chloride of platinum dissolved in alcohol, I
could get no results from the pure platinum wire or from die
pure 99-8 alcohol. In the same way, I could get no results from
the two-shilling piece I tried, nor from pure ether, although
nitrate of silver dissolved in ether gave splendid reactions.

Salt and water in a saturated solution gave marked results, a
ten per cent, solution gave weaker results, though quite posi-
tive. I could tell instantly when salt and water were in the detec-
tor, and I tried the following experiment three times: I made up
four ounces of ten per cent, salt solution in distilled water, filter-
ing the solution after the salt had dissolved. I then took four
ounces of distilled water and a number of test tubes. In nine
test tubes (which were, of course, identical) I poured distilled
water, and in three similar test tubes I put the saline water —
height of the liquid in each of the twelve tubes being identical. I
then put rubber corks in the tubes, placed the tubes in a box
with a lid, gently rolled the tubes about in die box, die lid of

TABLE OF SUBSTANCES, WITH ESTIMATED INTENSITY OF
REACTION

INTENSITY

TRANS-

STRENGTH

NAME OF SUBSTANCE

OF

Uli'ilNG

OP

REACTION

STATION

SOLUTION

Water, dualled -

_

_

c

_

_

Water, spring -
Water, iron

Water, pond

-

—

c

— 1

—

-

?

c

Heavily impregnated.

—

c

—

—

Common »oda -

_

c

10%

In dualled water.

Common soda -

-

—

c

Sat.

In distilled water.

Common salt

_

I

C

10%

In dualled water.

Common salt -

-

2

c

Sat.

Saturated solution m

dualled water.

Chlorate of potash

-

—

C

io%

In dualled water.

Quinine sulphate

-

I

c

10%

In acidified water

(dut.).

Phenolphthalein

-

—

p

Con.

Concentrated in ether.

Violet copying ink

-

—

p

Con.

As purchased.

In dualled water.

Citric acid

-

—

p

IO%

Pot. metabisulphite

_

—

C

10%

In dualled water.

Pot. ferricyamde

-

•s

c

10%

In dualled water.

So<L hyposulphite

-

—

c

20%

In spring water

Ether

-

—

c

Con.

Pure ethyl oxide

Mercury -

-

—

c

Con.

—

Peroxide ofhydrogen

—

c

—

Kingzett’s patent

Lump sugar

-

—

c

Sat

In dualled water.

Olive oil -

-

—

c

Con.

Pure ‘table’.

Paraffin oil

-

?

c

Con.

Commercial lighting

Petrol - -

c

Con.

‘Shell’ No. i.

Methylated spirit

-

—

p

Con.

Commercial, anted.

Sod. sulphite

-

—

p

10%

In dualled water.

Sod. metabuulphite

-

—

p

ic%

In dualled water.

Sod. carbonate -

-

—

p

10%

In dualled water.

Sod. bicarbonate

-

—

p

io%

In dualled water.

Nitrate of silver-

_

6

c

10%

Dissolved in ether.

Chloride of gold

-

—

c

10%

Dissolved m ether.

Chlonde of platinum

-

3

c

10%

Dissolved in alcohol.

Xylol - -

-

—

c

Con.

(Also known as
xylene.)

(Benzol, puieB.P.)
Thick soluaon m du-

Benzene - -

.

_

c

Con.

Gum arabic

-

c

alled water.

Spirit gum -

-

—

c

—

Solution in methy-

lated spirit.

Cedarwoodoil -

-

?

c

Con.

Thick, as used in mi-

Glycerine -

:

c

c

Con.

Con.

croscopy.

(Glycerol), pure BE.
(Petroleum ether.)

Absolute alcohol

~

c

Con.

99*8 pure.

Oil of doves

?

C

Con.

‘Technical* quality.

Shellacvamish -

—

c

—

In turpentine.

Chloroform

—

c

Con.

B.P. grade.

Ammonia -88o -

I

c

Con.

Strong.

Ammonia -88o -

—

c

10%

In di sailed water.

Acetic aad

c

Con.

Glacial B.P.

Acetic aad

—

c

10%

Glacial, in

Sulphuric aad -
Sulphuric aad -

—

c

Con.

Pure B.P.

—

c

10%

In distilled water.

Nunc add

p

Con.

PureBP.

Nitric aad

p

10%

In dualled water.

Hydrochlonc aad

p

Con.

PureBP.

Hydrochloric aad

—

p

10%

In dualled water.

Vmegar -

—

p

Pure malt.

Camphor -

—

c

1°%

Japanese, in alcohol.

Urine - - -

c

Whisky - - -

c

30u.p.

Neat, Scotch.

Port wine -

—

c

Old.

Ink -

—

c

—

Blue-black, ‘Swan*.

Paramidophenol

?

c

10%

Kahlbaum’s pure.

Lime water

—

c

Dualled water.

Gold -

—

c

,

In chain form, 18-carat.

Tm - - - -

—

c

—

Pure, as fuse wire.

Aluminium

c

Sheet.

Platinum -

c

Wire

Silver

—

c

—

Two-shilling piece.

Copper - - -

—

p

—

Wire

Potassium - - -

p

—

In lumps, under
naphtha.

German silver -

—

p

Wire.

Pot permanganate -

c

10%

In dualled water.

Alum - - -

—

c

10%

Hot dualled water.

Formalin -

c

C 40%

In dualled water.

Red lead -

—

c

Powder form.

Lead -

c

Wire

Hamamelis

?

c

B.P.

Known as witch
hazel.

Oxalic aad

'

c

10%

B.P.

Turpentine

—

c

Con.

Refined

Oil of citronella -

'5

c

Con.

Byard’s (Australian).

Gaulthendod -

—

c

Con.

Oil of wintergreen.

Soft iron wire -

—

c

Silver bromide -

2

c

10%

Dissolved in 10% pot.
bromide.

(Auer metal) stick.
Thick, dissolved in
xyloL

Ferro-cenum -

!

c

_

Canada balsam - -

"

c

"

Abbreviation!: C.- Chelmsford Staaon. P.- Pans Station.

Con. = Concentrated. B.P.- British Pharmacopkca.

24-8 New Light on the Abrams 1 Magic Box'?
which was closed, and then removed the tubes. If my life had
depended upon pointing out those tubes which contained the
saline water, I could not have done so — they appeared identical.
I then labelled each tube from one to twelve. I then carefully
poured the contents of a tube in the detector, and made a note
of the number. This I did with the twelve tubes, carefully rin-
sing out die detector after each trial. Against the numbers of
those botdes the contents of which I thought gave a reaction, I
placed the letter R. I then tasted the contents of the tubes, and I
found that the saline solutions had reacted every time. I could
not very well, with the apparatus at my disposal, repeat this
experiment with other substances which showed reactions, be-
cause the colour, smell or other characteristics gave me a clue
to the contents of the detector. However, I did try it with our
drinking water (which contains a lot of free iron) and found
that about fifty per cent, of my ‘guesses’ were correct.

The reaction of the quinine sulphate was most marked. To
dissolve the quinine in the distilled water I had to put twenty
drops of strong sulphuric acid into the solunon. I do not think
die acid had anything to do with the reaction experienced, as
concentrated or dilute sulphuric gave no reaction at all.
Potassium ferricyamde, ten per cent, solunon, gave the same in-
tensity of reaction as a thirty per cent, solunon, and a mixture
(ten per cent, of each) of potassium femcyamde and hyposul-
phite of soda in distilled water gave also what I estimated to be
•5 of reaction. Strong ammonia -880 gave a marked reaction,
but a fifty per cent, solunon gave nothing that I could detect.
Urine gave a slight reaction. Into two deep amber-coloured
bottles respectively I placed some unne and distilled water, and
corked them with rubber corks having holes for the electrodes
of the detector. I then placed the bottles behind me and mixed
diem in my hand, after which I could not detea from the
appearance of the bottles which contained the water and which
the urine. I then connected up in turn each bottle to the dctec-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 249

tor, and I could easily distinguish the contents of die bottle con-
taining die urine. I detected the oil of citronella in die same way.

The metals I tried were fastened merely by wires in the aerial
circuit, and I am not surprised that no reactions were noticed.
But the ferro-cerium is really a mixture of pyrophoric alloys of
iron and cerium with other metals of the cerium group. It is
also called ‘Auer metal’, ‘misch-metall’, etc., and is used in
strikc-a-lights, cigar lighters, etc. Erto, the Italian medium,
discovered the uses of ferro-cerium!1 Marked reaction was ex-
perienced with sticks of ferro-cerium, but which particular
constituent is responsible for this is a matter for research. The
iron in it probably does not help us, as I can get no reaction with
soft iron or steel.

It will be noticed that when I was using the Paris (Radiola)
transmission I could get no reactions. Pans is about two hun-
dred miles from my wireless installation, Chelmsford being
about seventy-five miles from my home. Though Pans is more
than twice as far as Chelmsford, I do not think the weaker
waves were altogether responsible for the absence of reactions.
Those adds (such as nitric, hydrochlonc, etc.) which I tried
when Paris was transmitting, I again put in the detector when I
was receiving Chelmsford — with the same results. I likewise
tried some of the metals again, but I could find no difference
whether Pans or Chelmsford was on. But there is one excep-
tion I must note: the metal potassium I tried from Paris first
and then from Chelmsford. With Pans transmitting I got
nothing, but with Chelmsford working I fancied I felt a faint
reaction, though this may have been due to the naphtha in
which it was immersed, as I previously had experienced a faint
reaction when using common paraffin oil. Potassium is very
difficult stuff to work with, and although I again tried putting
the metal in the circuit without the naphtha (with the same

1See Leaves from a Psychist’s Case-Book, by Harry Price, London, 1933,
PP- 354-7<S.

250 New Light on the Abrams ‘ Magic Box’?

slight reaction), the pieces were still damp with the spirit, which
may have accounted for the slight sensation felt; but personally
I do not think so. Afterwards I tried using the potassium im-
mersed in ether, but the results were not very successful.

I think it is quite certain that the power of the etheric waves
being used makes a vast difference to the strength of the reac-
tions or ‘sensations’ felt. I could easily reduce the intensity of the
reaction by turning down the valves of my instrument, and
often I lost die reaction altogether, after which I had extreme
difficulty in again getting the settings of the valves so that the
reactions could be felt. I always worked on the maximum
power I could get out of my set. If I had lived near Chelmsford
it is probable the reactions would have been much greater.
With unlimited power it is reasonable to suppose that very
great reaction could be felt by some subjects. Using more
‘reaction’ on the instrument increased the audible signals on the
loud-speaker but did not intensify the reactions (or sensanons)
felt.

With some of the substances experimented with I used two
detectors a foot apart. In the case of the salt and water experi-
ments I got identical results, but with a decrease in audibility m
the loud-speaker. The signals were weaker because of the extra
resistance of the second detector. When using the same amount
of fluid m the one detector that I had previously used in the
two, no decrease was noticeable — proving that the extra bulk
of liquid was not responsible for the decreased signals.

It is certain that instruments will have to be devised to
enable us to measure the reactions caused by the substances I
have named. I am assuming, of course, that it will be possible to
register the sensanons felt by the human ‘instrument’. It may
not be possible, but I think that the age, sex, health, etc., of the
‘medium’ or ‘subject’ affect greatly the intensity or the number
of reactions felt. Whereas I have put 6 against the reaction I felt
with an ether solution of nitrate of silver, a healthy young girl

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 251

might experience a reaction of *5 only. Whilst I fancied I could
detect a hunt reaction with witch hazel (hamamehs), an aged
man, in bad health, might perhaps get a reaction equal to 6.
There is a vast amount of research work to be done, and it is to
be hoped that instruments will be found sensitive enough to
record the ‘waves’, ‘vibrations’, or whatever they are that com-
pose the sensations felt through the reactions. I have, of course,
tried with galvanometers, voltmeters, ammeters, an electro-
scope, etc., but can so far find nothing to register the reactions,
which may not be electrical. An Emthoven galvanometer
might be affected.

It is possible that all persons are not suitable subjects with
which to experiment. Perhaps we shall find that mediums (in
the psychic sense) will prove more sensitive to the ‘etheric
reactions’ (to com a suitable term for the phenomena) than a
person not psychic. This is possible, I think, and will have to
form the subject of extensive research. I have not — at this
period — the slightest knowledge of the causes in us or in the
substances tried that produce the sensations, which are not at all
like an electric shock. It is much too early to theorise concern-
ing the nature of these reactions, but as we have seen that some
metallic salts have the power of producing these reactions in us,
it is possible that the metallic salts m us have some affinity with
the metal salt placed m the detector, and that the incoming
ethenc waves are in some way made to excite those salts, which
reveal themselves by the angling scnsaaon experienced. But all
this is the merest speculation. What we really want to know is
what change takes place in the substance in the detector when
the etheric waves are passed through it. Or does any change
take place in die energy (in form of ether waves from oscilla-
tions crossing the aerial wire) which passes through the detec-
tor, the subject, and eventually into the instrument? Or perhaps
the electrons in our body are disturbed, excited, or regrouped
by the change (produced in the detector) in the incoming

252 New Light on the Abrams ‘ Magic Box'?

ethnic waves. We seem to have an interesting problem before
os.

It has been suggested that the reactions were really faint elec-
trical currents from either the high- or low-tension batteries
used in the set. But experiments have proved that no leakage
occurs from the batteries; because if Acre were ‘leaks', they
could be measured by means of suitable instruments. Also, the
stronger reactions are not a bit like electric shocks. And, of
course, if the reactions were ordinary electrical currents, the
metal tests, such as gold, silver, platinum, etc., would intensify
the shocks, owing to their greater conductivity. But all die metals
(with the exception of ferro-cenum) inhibited the reactions.

I have already remarked that there is a vast amount of re-
search work to be done in the elucidation of the mystery of
these curious ‘reactions’, and should any of my readers care to
experiment, I suggest that they try with different makes of
valves, coils, transformers, aerials, ‘earths’, etc., as well as with
many substances not mentioned m my list. An important part
of future research will be the testing of the reactions on persons
(especially psychic mediums) of both sexes and all ages — both
in good and ill health. The reactions may prove beneficial in
healing, or they may have some effect in improving the recep-
tion of wireless transmission. I should not be surprised if it is
found that the ‘waves’, ‘rays’, ‘vibrations’ or reactions which
can be felt are similar to those which Abrams exploited for so
many years. The fra that he left two million dollars (which
was the subject of a legal fight between his relatives and the
Electronic Institute which he founded) at his death1 proves
how successful he was. I do not suggest that there is any money
in ‘etheric reactions’, but it is within the bounds of possibility
that they may prove beneficial to health, useful to science, or of
service to us in our pursuit of information relating to die laws
governing psychic phenomena.

‘Which occurred early in 1924.

XV. Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville
(Phenomena>

From the earliest days of what I will call the modem vaude-
ville act, the stage demonstration of a pretended sixth sense
has always appealed to performers and public alike. People
enjoy being fooled by some mystery they can neither solve nor
comprehend.

The commonest and most ancient form of stage ‘medium-
ship’ is that which simulates telepathy or thought-transference,
sometimes termed ‘mental magic’— though I am afraid there is
much more hard work than magic in this class of entertain-
ment. ‘Mental’ effects can be produced by means of collusion, a
concealed telephone, radio, speaking-tube, etc., though m the
case of professional ‘mind-readers’ these methods are now
obsolete. We are apt to regard tbs form of entertainment as
quite modem, but it was Giuseppe Pinetti de Wildalle (c. 1750.
1800),1 a clever Italian and the first ‘scientific conjurer who
(with his wife) really introduced (m 1783) the stage telepathic
act, and the method he employed was in the form of a code,
certain words representing certain objects, numbers, colours,
shapes, etc. For example, m the sentence, ‘What do I hold here?’
the word ‘hold’ might stand for the metal silver and ‘here’ for
watch. If the word ‘holding’ were substituted for ‘hold’, die
!See: Amusemens Physujues, by Giuseppe Pinetti de Wildalle, Pan*, 1784
(Eng. trans. Physical Amusements and Diverting Experiments, London, 1784).
In an article, ‘The Evolution of Some Popular Conjuring Tricks,’ by Harry
Pnce, published in The Listener (Dec. 28, 1932) is reproduced an engraving
of Pinetu doing his principal tricks, including the ‘telepathic’ act. For further
information concerning Pinetti and stage telepathy, see ‘Iflusbnismo’, an
article by Harry Pnce in Enciclopedia Itahana, VoL 18, pp. 854-60, Rone,
1933-

254 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville * Phenomena ’
metal gold might be indicated. He had an automaton figure
about eighteen inches in height, named the ‘Grand Sultan’ or
‘Wise Little Turk’, which answered questions as to chosen
cards, etc., by striking a bell, intelligence being communicated
to a confederate by an ingenious arrangement of the words,
syllables or vowels m the questions put. Later, m 1785, Pinetti
substituted his wife for the automaton. Signora Pinetti, sitting
blindfold in a front box of the theatre, replied to questions and
displayed her knowledge of articles in the possession of the
audience. Fifty years later this was developed with greater
elaboration and the system of telegraphing cloaked by inter-
mixing signals or other methods of commumcanon, first by
Robert-Houdin (1805-1871) m 1846, then by the ‘Great Her-
mann’ in 1848, and by John Henry Anderson, the ‘Wizard of
the North’, about the same date. These methods were greatly
improved m later years and brought to perfecnon by Julius
Zancig (1857-1929) and his wife.*

But the above systems of secretly conveying information to
an assistant, clever as they were, have been more or less super-
seded, the signals being now partly visual (the ‘silent’ code) in-
stead of aural. By a turn of the head, the movement of an eye-
lid, the posinon of a finger, a gesture, slight sounds at varying
intervals, or even a pre-arranged method of breathing, the
‘agent’ (the sender of the idea) in the auditorium is able to con-
vey to the percipient (the receiver, who can often sec through
or under the bandage covering the eyes) on the stage the name
of the object he is holding or concerning which information is
required. Some entertainers have their own secret methods. I
need hardly add that this work requires on the part of the per-
formers incessant practice, an abnormal memory, and consider-
able showmanship.1

1See ‘Our Secrets! Greatest Stage-Act Mystery Solved at Last’, by Julius
Zancig, a senes of articles in Answers (London), commencing Oct. 4, 1934.

* Scores of books written for conjurers contain codes for vaudeville
second-sight acts. See the Bibliography m Revelations of a Spirit Medium,

•pjK

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 255

A variant of the pseudo-telepathic act is that known as
‘muscle-reading', the great exponent of which was Stuart
Cumberland (i.e. Charles Gamer).1 1 knew Cumberland well,
and he made no secret of how he performed his feats. A mem-
ber of the audience would hide a small object in the auditorium,
its whereabouts being unknown to Cumberland who, upon
being called into the theatre, would seize the person’s wrist and
with a rush almost drag him to the hidden object.

‘Muscle-reading’ feats are performed by the agent becoming
perfectly passive while the performer (the percipient) detects
the slightest reaction on the part of the subject when being led
away from the hidden object. Dr. G. M. Beard of New York
wrote an interesting monograph* which fully explains how to
attain efficiency in this peculiar form of entertainment. Al-
though I have stated that the vaudeville coded telepathic act
was developed by Pinetn, he did not originate it. Professor
Johann Beckmann, of Gottingen University, m his Beitrage zur
Geschtchte der Eifindunger (1780-1805),* gives an account of a
‘talking’ figure, made in 1770, which was operated by a man
who was instructed by a confederate using a secret code and
making secret signs.

Other famous vaudeville ‘telepathists’ mclude Robert Heller4
(i.e. William Henry Palmer) and Haid£e Heller, American

edited by Harry Price and E J. Dingwall, London, 1922 (2nd edition 1930),
and ‘Short-Title Catalogue of Works on Psychical Research’, etc., by Harry
Price, Proceedings of the Nanonal Laboratory of Psychical Research, Vol. I,
Part II, London, 1929.

*566/1 Thought-Reader’s Thoughts, London, 1888, and People I Have Read,
London, 1905, both by Stuart Cumberland.

tThe Study of Trance, Muscle-Reading and Allied Nervous Phenomena, by
George Miller Beard, New York, 1882. See also ‘More Muscle-Reading’, by
Leroy H. Holbrook, in Suggestion Magazine, New York, for Jan. 10, 1905,
and Contact Mind-Reading, by Danel Fitzkee, San Francisco, 1935-
•Eng. trans A History of Inventions and Discoveries, by Johann Beckmann
(4 vob ), 2nd edition, London, 1814.

4See Robert Heller, His Dotngs, Glasgow, n.d., and Heltensm : Second Sight
Mystery, Boston, Mass., 1884.

256 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville * Phenomena ’
pseudo-mediums who flourished during the latter part of the
nineteenth century; Alfred and Edward Capper1 (whom I saw
many times), who, with their sister (I think her name was
Nellie), mystified British audiences with their pseudo-telepathy
at about the same time as the Three Svengalis* put on a ‘mind-
reading’ act in London; Bfri^voi,* the French conjurer and
pseudo-medium who staged ‘psychic’ entertainments; Ernesto
Bellini;4 and those clever entertainers, the Zomahs4 (Mr. and
Mrs. A. J. Giddmgs) and the Trees, who happily are still
with us.

Are such entertainments legitimate? Undoubtedly, if super-
normal faculties are not claimed for the performers. Neither the
Zomahs nor Trees pretend that their powers are ‘psychic’; they
are members of well-known magical associations: need I say
more? Some of these entertainers are extraordinarily clever.
On March 30, 1932, the Magicians’ Club presented me with
their gold jewel and arranged at the National Laboratory of
Psychical Research a demonstration of vaudeville telepathy and
other ‘psychic’ effects by various performers, and the Zomahs
were among them. The library was packed with about seventy
persons. Madame Zomah, blindfolded, was at one end of the
room and her husband was at the other. A solid wall of people
was between them, and there was no platform. Not a word was
spoken by Mr. Zomah and yet his wife instantaneously de-
scribed objects, numbers, colours, etc., as they were handed to
her husband. It was a magnificent exhibition of vaudeville tele-

1See A Rambler’s Recollections and Reflections, by Edward Capper, London,
I9IS'

•See The Astonishing “Mind-Reading” Feats of the “Three Svengalis”,
in Science Siftings Annual, London, 1902-].

•See Les Trues du 'Medium BMvol, by Andri Durville, Paris, 1918. See
die same author’s Le Secret de la Cage Spmte (tncks of the medium Caran-
enu), Pans, 1918.

4I possess an interesting portrait medallion issued by this man.

•Sec ‘I Know Your Thoughts. Zomahj Demonstrate to the People*, article
m The People newspaper, London, Dec. ax, 1914.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 257

pathy. Many people prefer to accept as abnormal some mani-
festation which they cannot explain or understand, and the
reason for this is that they are entirely ignorant of those methods
by means of which psychic phenomena can be simulated1 — and
they do not thank you for trying to explain things to diem ! It is
quite obvious that no genuine psychic could perform three
tunes per day (as many of these stage ‘mediums’ do) to order,
year in and year out. The credulous will freely admit this —
especially when explaining the failure of a medium under test
to produce phenomena. They will tell you that phenomena
cannot be turned on like a tap. And yet, most illogically, these
same persons will accept as genuine the manifestations of any
stage ‘medium’ who is under contract to produce ‘phenomena’
twice nightly !

The Zancigs were hailed as ‘genuine psychics’ by many
people, but their entertainment was poor when compared with
the Zomahs or the Trees. I knew the late Julius Zancig well and
we had many a good laugh about the way some credulous
people accepted their entertainment as supernormal — instead of
realising that their ‘gift’ was the result of constant application to
their business, and eight hours’ hard labour every day, whether
‘working’ or not. It is true that in his pamphlet. Adventures in
Many Lands (London, 1924), Zancig claimed that his powers
were of an occult nature, but he was writing with his tongue in
his cheek. During the same year he published his code and
revealed his ‘secrets’* — or at least some of them. Mr. J. Malcolm
Bird, formerly an associate editor of the Scientific American, in-

1Mr. David Devant, in the Windsor Magazine for December 1935 (pp.
118-9) record* in hu article ‘Illusion and Disillusion' how Sir Oliver Lodge
refused to believe that a rather simple, but clever conjuring trick (billet
readme) was not done by psychic means: ‘After the performance Mr Nevil
Maskelyne and I saw Sir Oliver and assured him that the results which
seemed so remarkable were obtained by trickery. Imagine our surprise and
disappointment when he refused to believe us.’ Mr. Devant reveals the secret
of tne tnck.

’See page 254, Note 1 ,op.cit.

258 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena
formed me that in 1923 or 1924 Zandg made a perfectly defin-
ite proposal to his journal involving the publication of his
methods, under a guarantee that any reader would be able to
use them and, subject to mnemonic ability, to obtain results with
them fairly comparable to Zancig’s own work. In 1924 Zandg
revealed to me his method of using the silent code. Zandg died
in the Santa Monica (California) hospital on July 27, 1929, aged
seventy-two, after a two years’ illness.

I reiterate that the performances of those ’telepathists’ I have
named are legitimate; they are clever and entertaining, and they
are artists. But there are shows of another kind where the ‘mind-
reading’ effects are due to crude confederacy and miserable
collusion. I was fortunate enough to stumble across one of these
entertainments at Innsbruck in June 1925, and I had a most
amusing tune solving the mystery of the Tyrolese spellbinders.
A record of my diverting adventures is printed in the present
volume.

I am also inclined to place in the same category a vaudeville
hypnotic act which I witnessed at Interlaken in July 1926. This
act was being exhibited by a Dr. Gaston Haas of St. Just,
Zurich, who toured the country with a girl, a youth and a
cinema outfit. Haas was the hypnotist, and the assistants were
his subjects, who did the usual ridiculous things at the bidding
of their employer — but there was no proof that they were in an
abnormal state when they did them. But they made the audi-
ence laugh — which is very important from a showman’s point
of view. A full account of Haas’s entertainment appears in
these Confessions. Before the War there were many hypnotic
acts (e.g. Kennedy’s) on the road, but as a means of entertain-
ment they have gone out of fashion— at least in England. I
think the spiritualist mediums who give public clairvoyance
have taken their place. It is so very easy to simulate, for stage
purposes, ’mesmerism’, hypnotism, catalepsy and trance.
Speaking of trance reminds me that the most amusing ’psychic’

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 259

mystery I ever solved was at the Prater, Vienna (I had gone
there to witness Willi Schneider ‘levitate’ himself1), where I
discovered that a Hindu fakir who had been ‘entranced for
three years’ had mechanical lungs and was wound up with a
clock key. Particulars of this clever fraud can be found in my
Leaves from a Psychist's Case-Book (London, 1933, pp. 337-8)-

So far we have dealt principally with ‘telepathists’ (usually
a pair) who work with codes, visual or aural, and who put up a
really good show which appears miraculous — to the unini-
tiated. But there is another class of stage ‘medium’ who employ
neither codes nor confederates nor partners: they work alone.
Among those I can name, offhand, are Enk Jan Hanussen*
(whom 1 saw m Berlin; he was afterwards found murdered
there on Saturday, April 8, 1933), Maloltz (i.e. Moische Blitz),
Miss Gene Dennis, Fred Marion (i.e. Josef Kraus), and Dr. A. J.
Mclvor-Tyndall.

When I saw Hanussen (i.e. Hermann Steinschneider) he put
up a very interesting and impressive performance, which in-
cluded some ‘experiments’ which appeared suspiciously like
card tricks. He probably had confederates (these are known as
‘horses’, ‘boosters’, or ‘floor-workers’) in the audience, and
many of the effects I witnessed were comparable to those
obtained by Manon, who, of course, produces similar results
unaided. One cannot, from the audience, test a stage performer,
and the ‘phenomena’ I witnessed could have been produced
normally in various ways. I tried to get Hanussen to England
some few years ago, and I was still hoping to do so when he
met his death.

Maloitz is a Dutch opera singer turned mind-reader. Trained
for the operatic stage, he found that vaudeville telepathy

1For an account of these experiments see ‘An Account of Some Further
Experiments with Willi Schneider’, by Harry Price, Journal of the
American S.P.R. August 192$.

*See Affine Lebenshnie, by Enk Jan Hanussen, Berlin, 1930.

260 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena

brought him in more engagements, though he still uses his
voice in his act. I believe he is known as the ‘singing medium*.

Maloitz impressed me very much. He came to see me one
afternoon and consented to be tested. He went out of my office
and I closed the door. On a piece of paper I wrote: ‘Remove the
long framed poster of the Davenport Brothers from off the wall
and take it out of the office.* I put the piece of paper m my
pocket. Maloitz was then admitted to the room. Not a word
was said. He seized my wrist and almost dragged me to the wall
on which was a collection of framed posters issued by the
Davenport Brothers. Still holding my wrist he slowly scruti-
nised every poster until his eye alighted on one on the extreme
right. This was the largest of the collection; it was printed in
the Russian and French languages on green paper. With barely
a moment’s hesitation, he took die poster from off the wall and
quickly took it and me out of the room. The experiment was a
brilliant success. Of course it was muscle-reading, but exceed-
ingly clever. The fact that the poster was the largest, and the
only one on coloured paper, undoubtedly subconsciously influ-
enced my choice. This may have assisted Maloitz. The next ex-
periment he tried was without physical contact, but I was in-
structed to keep close to him during the attempt to carry out
my written and secret instructions. He failed. But a similar ex-
periment with a friend, Mr. A. L. Dnbbell, immediately after,
succeeded perfectly. A few weeks later Maloitz kindly demon-
strated at a dinner I gave M. Rend Sudrc, and was quite suc-
cessful. I tried to engage Maloitz for a series of experiments at
the National Laboratory of Psychical Research (of which I was
director), but his agent required £ 20 per stance, a sum I was not
prepared to pay.

Miss Gene Dennis descended on London during die middle
of April 1934. She came from America to fulfil an engagement
at the Palladium music hall. On the programme she was billed
as ‘the psychic marvel of the age’, ‘human beyond the ordinary,

261

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

but not super-human’, ‘the girl who amazed Einstem’ (no evi-
dence was forthcoming to prove this assertion), etc., etc. The
Palladium’s patrons were warned that ‘Miss Dennis does not
answer trifling questions, but is here to answer those of a more
serious nature. . . . She cannot tell you your name, address, tele-
phone number . . . and you will confer a favour upon her and
the management if you will confine your questions to problems
which deeply concern and interest you.* The reader will notice
that Miss Dennis docs not claim to get definite information
about anything.

Miss Dennis called on me on the Friday before her Palladium
engagement and I found her a pleasant, unassuming young
woman. She told us she was a farmer’s daughter from Kansas,
and she certainly looked the part; a typical country girl from
the Middle West. She gave us one or two readings which were
supposed to describe our characters.

On Thursday, April 26, 1934, 1 accepted the management’s
invitation to see Miss Dennis at the Palladium. Her method of
answering questions on that afternoon was to have a posse of
assistants m various parts of the theatre who relayed the ques-
nons to her, one at a time. So she started off with the advantage
of answering only those questions which the assistants called
out to her. I assumed that undesirable questions were not
relayed to her. Standing on the stage, with a small micro-
phone m her hand, she rattled off answers to the questions that
were fired at her — via the assistants — from different parts of the
house. I remember two of them:

Lady in gallery: Will my husband return to me, and should I
forgive him?

Miss Dennis: When did your husband leave you?

L. in G.: Thirty-five years ago. [Laughter.]

Miss Dennis: He will not return; do not worry about him,
but find someone else.

262 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena ’

Hie next question came from a young fellow, seated a few
feet away from me. He said: ‘Shall I go to America this August
and will die venture be successful?’ Miss Dennis replied to the
effect that he would go to America, but not before die autumn.
Also, that the venture would be successful. In connection with
the trip she said she could ‘see a bundle of MSS’. The young
man appeared pleased with the prognostication. I chatted with
him afterwards and he said he thought of going to the United
States in an attempt to get a play produced. He thought Miss
Dennis had made a great hit.

But an analysis of Miss Dennis’s reply to the young man
proves that the same answer would have fitted many other
people and situations. The ‘bundle of MSS.’ could apply to any
author, actor, stockbroker, printer, professional man (such as
doctor, lawyer, etc.), teacher, lecturer, politician, engineer, in-
ventor, etc. In fact, to almost any business man whose affairs
took him to America. Even a bundle of letters could be called
‘a bundle of MSS.’ and Miss Dennis knew the young man was
going on business of some sort, because his question revealed
that fact. And no business man goes to America in August if he
can help it: it would be more natural to go in the autumn.

Miss Dennis kindly visited the National Laboratory on Tues-
day, May i, 1934, and demonstrated to a group of members
and others who had assembled to meet her. Her ‘readings’ and
descriptions of people were interesting and she made several
good hits. But there was no evidence that there was anything
psychic about it. Professor Dr. Cyril Burt and Mr. S. G. Soal
were among the audience and, correctly, she described them as
being of the academic type. But they look academic, and in
Miss Dennis’s presence Professor Burt was referred to once as
‘doctor’. Mr. Soal was stated to be ‘a teacher’ (which, of
course, he is) who had ‘nothing to do with mathematics*. This
was a bad shot, as Mr. Soal’s subject happens to be mathematics.
But we spent an interesting afternoon, and I was sorry I could

Marion psvchomctnung a lcttci

(Si v pm- 2-?)

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 263

not arrange a series of test experiments. Miss Dennis’s work is
entertaining, but from a spectacular point of view is not, in my
opinion, comparable with the stances of Marion or Maloitz.

What is the secret of these vaudeville ‘psychic’ entertainers?
How is it done? These questions can be answered in several
ways. Without any suggestion of common tnckcry, collusion,
etc., these people possess a number of faculties which are very
highly developed— just as a virtuoso has certain faculties which,
when highly developed, enable him to play, say, die violin
better than most people. Stuart Cumberland possessed the
highly-developed faculty of instandy detecting the reflex action
of the muscles when the ‘agent’ he was leading (actually, the
agent was leading him) was not heading for the hidden object.

One faculty possessed by most stage ‘mind-readers’ or clair-
voyants is the ability to ‘read’, not a mind, but a person, or a
person’s character, more quickly or more accurately than the
layman. The clever telepathist will— perhaps unconsciously —
absorb and analyse indicia from a person’s clothes, speech,
appearance, manner of walking, etc. He will see dungs and
form deductions (through long training and practice) from dis-
criminating marks which would not be visible to one person in
a thousand.

Another faculty possessed by some ‘mind-readers’ is a hyper-
aesthetic one. In certain respects they are abnormally sensitive.
This exaggerated sensibility may be of one or more than one
sense. One performer may possess hyperass thesia of all the five
special senses of sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch. Others
may be supcrsensmve to only one sense, e.g. touch. I have seen a
man stroke the back of a playing-card drawn from a new pack
and pick the same card out again, in the dark, after it had been
shuffled into the pack. In a recent law case Captain Gerald
Lowry, the blind osteopath, was handed an ordinary pack of
cards and, by feeling them, he was able to tell what each one
was. This was an exhibition of hyperaesthesia of the sense of

264 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena ’

touch, which had been rendered more acute since he was
blinded. In the same way, I have seen a person distinguish the
back of a new playing-card (after having seen it once only)
after it had been shuffled into the pack. He recognised minute
variations in the printing which were not visible to me. This
was an example of hyperesthesia of the sense of sight. The suc-
cess of the ‘telepathic’ experiments ofProfessor Gilbert Murray1
was due, I think, to hyperaesthesia of the sense of hearing which
he probably possessed without knowing it. I am convinced that
both Marion and Maloitz are hyperaesthetes, though perhaps
unaware of the fact. Though Cumberland was a ‘muscle-
reader’, it is probable that he was hyperaesthetic as regards sight
and hearing, which would enable him to translate the indicia
exhibited by his audience (who, of course, were in the secret)
into informing him whether he was ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ in his quest
for the hidden object — this extra help in addition to that given
by the passive ‘agent’ who was unconsciously leading him to
the hiding-place.

In addition to die above extra-normal faculties possessed by
vaudeville mind-readers, a good deal of information is ex-
tracted from the audience themselves by the questions they ask
(or the way they ask them) or the answers they give. I am not
now referring to the ‘pumping’ or ‘fishing’ process indulged m
by certain spiritualist clairvoyants or trance mediums. Many of
die questions asked at public demonstrations contain their own
answers. There was only one answer that Miss Dennis could
have given to the young fellow at the Palladium. The way he
asked his question implied that he thought he was going to
America, and as to the ‘venture’, of course we all hoped it
would be a success! We should have been astounded if Miss
Dennis had answered something like this: ‘You will not go to
America either this August or next August, or any August. I
see bundles of handcuffs. . . . Your venture will not be a success,
1See Proceedings, London S.P.R., Vol. XXIX, 1918, Part 72

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 265

because you will be hanged before you have a chance to try it
out.’ That sort of thing would never do: even professional
clairvoyantes have to be pleasant! To sum up, then, those vaude-
ville ‘mediums’ who work to contract, at a set time and place,
two or three times daily, in good or ill-health, depend upon:
a quick wit; keen observational powers; a perfect knowledge of
human nature; the power to read and translate minute indicia
missed by the ordinary person; the ability to judge character; an
aptitude for extracting questions which contain their own an-
swers, and for giving answers which will bring forth further in-
formation; lucky shots and generalities (‘I get the name Tim,
Tom, Jim, John . . . middle height . . . brown hair, dark coat,
black hat . . . fairly young . . . asks for mother . . . speaks of
Annie, Jane, Mary . . . something about a pet dog ... is worried
about a paper . . . says he is very happy . . . sends love to chil-
dren . . . does anyone recognise this spirit?’ and so on, ad
nauseam) which arc applicable to fifty per cent, of the audience;
the knack of dodging awkward or leading questions, at the
same time handing out equivoques which you can take how
you like! Such is the modus operandi of the typical stage clair-
voyant, and some arc very skilful at presenting a show which
impresses the uncritical and the uninitiated. Of course, those
whose entertainments consist of effects produced by muscle-
reading, hyperaesthesia of the senses, and similar natural facul-
ties, are in a different category and are delightful entertainers,
though they cannot claim to be psychic. But however these
pseudo-psychic effects are produced, two essentials are neces-
sary— good showmanship and considerable effrontery. I have
seen performances by platform clairvoyantes who depended
solely on an unblushing impudence to pull them through.
Quite recently I heard a trance medium reel off eighteen common
Christian names (Tom, Dick, Harry, Bert, Maud, etc.) before
the person addressed recognised the name of any relative who
had ‘passed over’.

a66 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena ’

Though probably unaware of the fact, Miss Gene Dennis
made psychic history when she broadcast in the ‘In Town
To-night’ series from London on Saturday, April 21, 1934, just
before her appearance at the Palladium. The announcer told us
that three (more or less distinguished) persons were in the
studio and that Miss Dennis had never previously met them,
and was unaware of their identity. The medium then proceeded
to tell them something about their past, present and future. The
persons (all were connected with the entertaining profession,
and, therefore, likely to be sympathetic to a sister artiste)
admitted that what Miss Dennis had said was correct, or likely
to prove correct.

Why I have mentioned the B.B.C. stance is because it was the
first time that a professional ‘medium’ had broadcast in this
country; it was die first tune a ' stance ’ had been put on the
ether m this country; it was the first time that phenomena —
real or alleged — had been put on the air by the B.B.C. Since
Miss Dennis’s visit two astrologers (including a lady from
Hollywood1) have broadcast.

I have omitted to mention those vaudeville mediums who
‘perform’ various actions while in an alleged hypnotic state.
They usually specialise in some form of musical act for the
simple reason that they must entertain their audiences at all costs.
The Three Svengahs put on a faked hypnotic musical act and
their methods have been published.1 Speaking of this particular
type of entertainment, an alleged ‘musical medium’ was ex-
posed some years ago, and the fraud was so clever that I make
no apologies for giving the modus operandi.

As usual there were two of them, a man and a girl The girl
was the ‘medium’ and her companion went among the audi-

•Miss Nella Webb, the ‘astrologer to Hollywood’, broadcast on May 11,
I93S-

•See page 256, Note a. See also Secrets of Stage Hypnotism : Stage
Electricity, and Bloodless Surgery, by ‘Kartyn’ (ix. J. F. Burrows), London,
191a.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 267

cncc, asking various people to write down on slips of paper the
titles of well-known operas, melodies, etc. I should add that
while this was being done a committee on the stage was care-
fully blindfolding the medium. It is probable that die medium
could not see, as her eyes were plugged with cotton wool,
which was secured by adhesive tape: a black bandage covered
all. Her ears were also plugged and taped.

When the titles had been written down, a member of the
audience collected the papers (not a word being spoken) and
put them in his pocket. The ‘hypnotist’ then mounted the stage.
This mediumship was alleged to be a dual one: the woman was
the positive element, the man was the negative.

When the young woman had been seated at the piano, the
man proceeded to ‘hypnotise’ her by making several passes
across her head and back. Not a word was spoken. Everything
was then ready.

Standing beside the seated girl at the piano, and facing the
audience, the man lightly placed his hand on the top of her
head ‘to make contact’. After an impressive interval, the girl
suddenly commenced to play the various airs, rattling them off
one after another in fine style. Those members of the audience
who had chosen pieces admitted that their selections had been
played, and the slips of paper were available to prove it.

How was it done? That is the question I always ask myself,
and in the case I have dted the answer revealed a particularly
ingenious swindle. The man had a good memory and memor-
ised the title of each air as it was written down. With his right
hand on the girl's head, with his little finger he softly tapped
out the titles in Morse code on her forehead ! Like most pseudo-
mediumistic acts, it was very simple: so simple, in fact, that per-
haps some of my readers might like to try the experiment as a
parlour game.

One of the greatest of all vaudeville ‘musical mediums* was
Magdelcine G. This lady was bom at Tiflis of a Russian mother

268 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena

and a Swiss father, both of whom were professional dancers.
Magdeleine was also trained as a dancer, singer and pianist.
Eventually it was alleged that under hypnosis her interpretation
of music and the opera was little short of miraculous. In the
— alleged — trance state, and stimulated by the music, a trans-
figuration would take place and she would dance, sing and
impersonate the character m die comedy or tragedy m a way
which was stated to be ‘transcendental’. The emotions were
portrayed ‘with a vividness which spellbound all beholders’:
terror, joy, envy, hate, desire, avarice, pain, etc., transfigured
her countenance in a way which, it was stated, was not possible
in the unhypnotised state.

I saw Magdeleine at the Garrick Theatre, London, m June
15104. She was then about twenty-six years old. Although I was
very young at the tune, the performance impressed me as a
brilliant musical and dramatic entertainment. The hypnonc
part of the performance was quite secondary. She was intro-
duced by her manager, £mile Magnin, a Swiss hypnotist, who
‘discovered’ her. (He afterwards wrote a comprehensive his-
tory1 of his protfgie.) After M. Magnin had hypnotised her she
became listless and rigid, but at the first chord struck by the
orchestra her face underwent an extraordinary transformation:
it was as if she had had an electric shock. She jumped up from
the couch upon which she had been reclining and began wildly
dancing round the stage, her expression changing with the
different harmonies of the piece being played: the whole
gamut of the emotions was portrayed. Then a number of songs
were sung (*1116 Lost Chord’, etc.) followed by violin, piano,
and organ solos, to all of which she rendered a mimetic com-
mentary. She had a very sympathetic ‘Press’* and created quite
a sensation. An extraordinary feature of her renderings was
that, when the music ceased, she held the pose suggested by the

1L’Artet Hypnose, by fimilc Magnin, Geneva, 1904.

•See Daily Telegraph, Daily News, Daily Express, etc., for May 4, 1904.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 269

last chord played, just as if she had been petrified. This may have
been showmanship. Applause was supposed to cause her ‘con-
siderable pain* (more showmanship?). She ‘never rehearsed;
did not know what music was going to be played to her and,
when she awoke from the hypnotic sleep, was quite unaware of
what had happened’.

Madame Magdeleine was tested by a number of well-known
investigators of the period: Professor Charles Richet, Baron
von Schrenck-Notzmg, F. W. H. Myers, Carl du Prel, Colonel
dc Rochas and others. Although Schrenck (who saw her many
times at Munich) wrote a book1 concerning her, he was scep-
tical about parts of her performance.* It is impossible at this
distance of tune to say how much — if any — of Magdeleine’s
power of expressing emotions was due to hypnosis, and how
much to her training in the histrionic art. The outstanding feet
is that she was ‘boosted’ by her manager all over Europe as a
vaudeville turn which, as I can vouch for, was particularly
entertaining. Colonel de Rochas* also experimented with a
musical medium named Lina; and I believe a Spanish dancer.
Carmen cita, did a similar musical act under hypnosis. Jesse B. H.
Shephard was also doing something of the sort in London in
1872.*

I cannot conclude this chapter without mentioning the class
of ‘mediums’ known as ‘magnetic ladies’, ‘strength resisters’,
‘electric girls’, et hoc genus omne. Lulu Hurst* (Mrs. Paul Atkin-

lDie Traumtanzenn Magdeleine G., by A. von Schrenck-Notzmg, Stuttgart,
x904-

•For a brief account, m English, of her London performances, see The
Musical Medium’, by Sidney Dark, in the Royal Magazine, London, for
Sept. 1904.

•See Les ttats Profonds de T Hypnose, by E. A. Albert de Rochas d’Aiglun,
Paris, 1892.

•See Unorthodox London, by Rev. C. M. Davies, London, 1874 (3rd edi-
tion), p. 30s ff.

•See Lulu Hunt ( The Georgia Wonder) Writes Her Autobiography, Rome,
Georgia, 1897.

270 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena *

son), known as the ‘Georgia Wonder’ or ‘Georgia Magnet’, was
a famous exponent of this particular form of trickery. Because
it is trickery from start to finish. To the uninitiated, it seems
little short of miraculous that a slender young woman, holding
a billiard cue, can resist the united strength of half a dozen
strong men. This is not the place to describe how these tricks
(or rather knacks) can be acquired, but I can refer die reader to
the literature1 of the subject where this particular form of
‘psychic’ imposture is completely ‘debunked’ — if the reader will
pardon my using this most appropriate term.

I need waste little space on such vaudeville ‘mediums’ as the
Davenport Brothers, William M. Fay, Annie Eva Fay, Wash-
ington Irving Bishop,1 J. F. Day, etc. These people were con-
jurers masquerading as psychics, and no one would walk across
the road to-day to see a similar entertainment. But they had a
large following of uncritical, credulous and ignorant devotees,
and modem spiritualism owes much to these ‘mediumisac’
spellbinders of the vaudeville stage. I have a large collection of
showbills issued by the Davenports in various countries and
languages and if doubt still remains as to whether their enter-
tainment was anything but undiluted trickery, a glance at these
posters will dispel it: they would do credit to a circus propric-

1See: The Magnetic Lady, or a Human Magnet De-Magnetised, by L A.
Weatherly and J. N. Maskelyne, Bristol, 1892; ‘How to Pose as a Strong
Man’, bjrJE. Barton-W right, an article in Pearson's Magazine for Jan. 1899

of die Electric Girl’, by Nelson W. Perry, an article in a periodical published
m London; ‘The Electric Girl’, by Walter B. Gibson, an article in die
Sunday Magazine Section of the St. Louts Globe Democrat for March 18,
1923, St. Louis, U.S.A.; The Georgia Magnet’, by Walter B. Gibson, an
article m the Sunday Magazine Section of the St. Louis Globe Democrat for
Nov. 26, 1922, St. Louis, U.S.A.; The Strong Man’, by Walter B. Gibson,
an article in die Sunday Magazine Section of the St. Louis Globe Democrat
for Feb. 2$, 1923, St. Louis, U.S.A.; ‘Monarchs and Muscle’, by Phyllis
Bentley, an article in the Strand Magazine, VoL 6, London, 1893.

’For an account of Bishop’s performance, see Thought-Reading as a Case
of Mutual Influence’, by J. S. S.-G., an article in the Leisure Hour, Vol. 31,
1882.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 271

tor. When W. H. H. Davenport (1841-1877) died, his brother
Ira (1839-1911) carried on the business with J. F. Day. William
M. Fay, die Davenports’ manager, joined forces with ‘Dr.
Silvester’ (the ‘Fakir of Oolu’), an illusionist, and toured
Europe with him. The Davenports’ sister, Mrs. lime Blandy,
saw money in the medium game and she, too, took to the road
under the name of Mrs. Lizzie Davenport Blandy. I have one of
her posters dated June 7, 1869, and it was issued to advertise her
pubhc stances at Boston, Mass. And yet there are people who
still assert that the Davenports ‘might have had some genuine
psychic power’ ! What the Davenports did possess was a brazen
effrontery, magnificent showmanship, and an aptitude for
commanding publicity that amounted almost to a science.
Actually, their tricks were very poor.1 This remark applies also
to the youth Alexis (Alexis Didier), a young French somnambule
who gave public and private demonstrations of alleged clair-
voyance and lucidity in London in 1844, when hypnotised by
his manager, M. Marallet. John Forbes, M.D., F.R.S., investi-
gated the claims of this medium and published a scathing report*
on the boy’s ‘phenomena’.

I could continue this chapter indefinitely with accounts of
men with ‘multiple minds’,8 ‘calculating boys’,* healers, ‘talk-
ing’ animals, and similar — very interesting — turns which have

1For a large number of works, etc., dealing with the Davenport Brothers,
see the 'Short-Title Catalogue’ of the National Laboratory of Psychical
Research ( Proceedings , VoL 1, Part 2).

•See Mesmerism True — Mesmerism False • a Critical Examination of die Facts,
Claims, and Pretensions of Animal Magnetism With an Appendix, Contain-

ing a Report of Two Exhibitions by Alexis, edited by John Forbes, M.D.,
F.R.S., F.G.S. London, 1845. (Reprinted from The Lancet for Aug. 3, 1844.)

•See The Man With the Multiple Mind*, by Fenn Shene, an article in the
Strand Magazine (describing die act of Harry Kahne), London, for Oct.
1925.

•See the articles: ‘Calculating Bovs’, m die Strand Magazine for Sept. 1895;
The Cleverest Child m die World’, by Professor H. Olench, in the Strand
Magazine for 1900; ‘Calculating Boys’, by Dr. A. S. Russell, in The Listener
for July 11, 1934, and Nov. 27, 1935.

272 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena ’

appeared in vaudeville, but I will resist the temptation, and
refer the reader to the library1 of the University of London
Council for Psychical Investigation, where works on these sub-
jects can be found.

I have said very little about Marion in this chapter because a
foil report of our experiments, by Mr. S. G. Soal (whom I
asked to take charge of the inquiry), is being published as one of
the Bulletins* of the University of London Council for Psychical
Investigation. But a risumi of our tests will not be out of place
in this volume.

Both Maloitz and Marion called upon me within a few weeks
of each other and I was fortunate in being able to fix up a con-
tract with the latter for a senes of scientific experiments. These
lasted for many months. The first experiments we tned with
Marion were on the lines of the Stuart Cumberland tests, ex-
cept that there was no physical contact with the ‘agent’. A little
nervous at first, he soon got used to us, and gave us some bril-
liant examples of his skill In Manon’s absence, small articles
were hidden m vanous parts of our large stance- room and were
found by him within a minute or so. For example, on January
25, 1934. 2 special test was held and among those present were:
Mr. R. S. Lambert and Mrs. Lambert, Professor Dr. Millais
Culpin, Dr. Frederick Ridley, Dr. J. Edgley Cumock, Dr. Eva
Morton, etc. At 8.13 (I am quoting from the verbatim report)
Mr. Lambert gave his fountain pen to Marion who, having
lightly stroked it (‘sensed’ it), left the room. Mr. Lambert then
hid the pen in his wife’s handbag. Marion was called m, and m

1See Proceedings of the National Laboratory of Psychical Research, Vol. 1,
Part 2, for illustrated ‘Short-Tide Catalogue’ of the library, now housed by
die University of London Cornual for Psychical Investigation. Also Bulletin I
of the University of London Council, for Supplement (boob acquired since
1929), London, 193$. Thu library of 12,500 boob was formed by Mr.
Harry Price.

^Preliminary Studies of a Vaudeville Telepathist’, by S. G. Soal, Bulletin
III of the University of London Council for Psychical Investigation, Lon-
don, 1936.

nakinu; a ‘trial’ of a tin box as ti> uhctlur it contains a hiddc

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 273

one and a quarter minutes had found the pen. Later, a ring was
hidden m one of six identical rectangular tin boxes. The boxes
were then placed in various parts of the room. Marion returned
and, with many apparently nervous, quivering movements of
the arm, as of one with the palsy, passed his hand over each box
m turn. (Not a word was spoken, and of course Marion did not
touch the boxes in any way.) Within two minutes, and at the
first attempt, he had found the box containing the ring.

The six on boxes mentioned above played a major part in the
Marion experiments. For at least once a week, for several
months, these boxes were used in our tests. A handkerchief
would be ‘sensed’ by Marion, who then left the room. A die
would then be thrown and, according to what number came
uppermost, the handkerchief (in a box) would be placed m a
certain location indicated by the number. For example, 3
would mean on the floor, and 2 on the table. It will be seen that
it was left entirely to chance as to what position in the room the
box (containing handkerchief) was placed. After each attempt,
boxes and lids were mixed, and every box changed to another
location. Out of hundreds of attempts, Marion had many more
correct ‘guesses’ than could be accounted for by chance. We
later discovered that Marion’s skill in finding objects is due to
the fact that he gathers indicia from the audience as to where the
handkerchief or other object is hidden. It is difficult to say
exaedy how he does this — probably he does not know himself.
But, as m the case of Mr. Lambert’s fountain pen, the audience
knew m which box the handkerchief, etc., was hidden; conse-
quently, when he was near that box, we did something that told
Manon that he was getting ‘hot’. Whether it was unconscious
muscular movements of the body or limbs, some change in the
breathing rate, or a different facial expression, it is certain that
the experimenters unconsciously informed Marion when he
was near the hidden object. Later, we constructed special ap-
paratus which proved that our theory was correct. In his

274 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville ‘ Phenomena ’
advertisements Marion claims to be ‘clairvoyant’, but we
received no proof of this.

Playing- and other cards entered largely into our tests.
Quoting from the protocol of the same stance (January 25, 1934),
I find that at 8.43 the five of diamonds was chosen from a new
pack of playing-cards and given to Marion, who ‘sensed’ it.
He then went out of the room. The chosen card and five others
were shuffled, in the dark, and then placed face downwards on the
table. The lights were switched on, Marion was called in, and,
within four minutes and at first trial, had found the correct
card. At 9.24 the four of hearts was chosen, mixed with others
in the same way, and was found by Marion in one and a half
minutes, at the first attempt. On January 31, 1934, further card
tests were arranged and he made some brilliant ‘guesses’. At
3.30 a new pack of cards was opened and the three of hearts was
given to Marion, who ‘sensed’ it, and went out of the room.
Six black cards and the red one were shuffled under the table
and laid face downwards on the table. No one m the room
knew which card was the three of hearts. Marion came m,
commenced sliding each card towards him and, at the fourth,
turned it up as the correct card — which it was. This took
twenty-eight seconds only.

Marion’s ability to find these hidden cards is due to (a)
hyperaesthesia of the sense of sight, or {b) hyperaesthesia of the
sense of touch. If Marion feels a card once (back or front), he
can often find it again (m the dark) from amongst many others;
if he sees the back of a card once, he can often recognise it
amongst many others by — according to the theory we have
formed — the minute differences that exist on the backs (sup-
posed to be identical) of a pack of playing-cards.

At 4.33 (January 3 1) Marion was called into our stance- room,
which was in Stygian darkness, and was asked to ‘sense’ (or
feel) a red card: he then withdrew. The lights were then
switched on, and five black cards were taken from the pack

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 275

and, with the red card, shuffled under the table. They were then
placed on the table, backs upwards. No one in the room knew
which of the six was the red card. Marion was called in and, in
forty-three seconds, found the correct card by stroking the
backs. We, who knew what the card was, could not find it;
Marion, who had never seen the card, found it easily. This was a
good demonstration of hyperacsthesia of the sense of touch.
We did many scores of card tests in various ways with different
sorts of cards (some bearing geometrical figures, pictures of
animals, colours, numbers, etc.) and we found that where
Marion could see or touch a card, he usually scored more suc-
cessful guesses than chance would account for. When Marion
could not touch or see a card (e.g. when all were in sealed,
opaque envelopes), the successful ‘hits’ did not indicate any
special powers on his part. Certainly, they did not indicate any
faculty resembling clairvoyance. As an instance of this, at 4.23
on March 2, 1934, Mr. Soal handed a bundle of thirty-five
envelopes to Manon. Each envelope contained either a piece of
red paper or a piece of black paper. The envelopes were mixed
and Manon was invited to tell us, clairvoyantly, what colour
each envelope contained. Out of thirty-five attempts, Marion
was nght sixteen times and wrong nineteen times. He might
have done much better by simple guessing.

I have said that we constructed special apparatus in order to
test our theory that Marion ‘reads’ his audience as to whether he
is getting ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ when seeking an object. The apparatus
consists of a platform on which is erected a sort of sentry-box
on four rubber-tyred pentagraph wheels. By means of two
handles the box can be easily pushed about the room. In front
of the box can be hung five panels, each panel, when in posi-
tion, obscuring a fifth part of the body of any person in the box.
If all the panels are in position, then the person is wholly
obscured.

To test our theory it was arranged that, though every person

276 Stage Telepathy and Vaudeville 4 Phenomena ’
in die room knew where the hidden object was, Marion was
permitted to see only one of these persons. This person, or
‘agent’, was placed in the ‘sentry-box’ and wheeled (by some-
one who did not know where the object was) about the room,
behind Marion in his attempts to find the hidden object. (He
says that he can do better if the ‘agent’ keeps close to him.) The
remaining members of the audience, who knew where the
object was hidden, were screened from Marion’s view by
means of curtains hung across the room. They were told to
‘will’ Marion to find the object.

As our tests progressed, we screened various portions of the
‘agent’s’ body and found, generally speaking, that the more he
was obscured, the fewer the successes scored by Marion. But
the latter was able to acquire helpful indicia from even a fifth
part of a person’s body. But when the ‘agent’s’ body was com-
pletely hidden from Marion, the latter scored no more suc-
cesses than chance would account for. The audience on the
other side of the curtains, who were ‘willing’ Marion to seek in
the right direction, did not, apparently, help him a bit.

We also tried another piece of apparatus, a fight wooden
‘shroud’ which covered the whole of the ‘agent’s’ body, except
his feet. He was able to walk about the room m this ‘shroud’,
and could see Marion through a thick gauze net m the head-
piece. We found that the mere fart of the 'agent’s' walking
gave Marion clues as to the whereabouts of a hidden object.

These tests convinced us that Man on’s ‘telepathic’ faculty is
really hyperaesthesia of some of the senses, plus the ability to
read and analyse indicia unconsciously provided by his audience.
Marion can find an object when he can see the person who has
hidden it, and if that person can see him, or hear where he
is; when that person is not present, or is invisible, he usually
fails.

Marion (a Czechoslovak) regularly tours Europe, and it is
probable that he will be in London again at some future date.

ywood ‘shroud’ and visor, screening every part of the ‘agent’s’
body, except Ins feet. Constructed for tests with Marion.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 277

His public performances are well worth seeing. He has almost
uncanny powers of finding hidden objects; but those powers,
brilliant as they are, are not— so far as we have discovered— of a
psychic nature. Marion has a charming personality; he assisted
the experimenters in every way, and I was sorry when the tests
were over.

XVI. A Clever American Hypercesthete

In the last chapter I mentioned the name of Dr. A. J. Mdvor-
Tyndall as being that of a platform ‘telepathist’ or mind-
reader. He is so good that no apology is needed for including an
account of his work in these Confessions. I have called him an
‘American hyperaesthete’ because he has hved in the United
States for so many years and his home is there; actually, he is an
Englishman. White-haired, tall and dignified, one might easily
mistake him for an American pastor or colonial bishop: he is
not a bit like the popular conception of a medium. He is well-
known m the U.S.A. as a medium and lecturer on spiritualist
platforms.

Through the kindness of Dr. E. J. Dingwall and the me-
dium’s friend, Mr. H. W. Symington, Dr. Mclvor-T yndall
gave us a demonstration of his faculties in my laboratory on the
evening ofMay 20, 1935. As he never exhibits his powers unless
blindfolded, I prepared a special bandage or mask for use m the
experiments. This was composed of two thicknesses of stout
black fabric, between which was sandwiched a layer of cotton
wool. Four tapes completed the mask. As I point out in the
chapter on Kuda Bux, it is extremely difficult to blindfold a
person with any degree of satisfaction. But I will admit that we
thought it improbable that the medium could use his normal
vision during, at least, some of our experiments.

The group invited to meet Dr. Mclvor-T yndall included
Mrs. Henry Richards, Dr. E. J. Dingwall, Dr. Guy B. Brown,
Mr. H. W. Symington and his two sons, Mr. S. G. Soal, Mr. J.
Fry, Mr. Ellic Howe, Mr. Peel Fletcher, Mr. Jackson, and the
present writer. Three of the group (Dr. Brown, Mr. Soal and

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 279

myself) were members of the University of London Council
for Psychical Investigation. Miss Ethel Been ham, Secretary to
the Council, made the verbatim notes from which this report
has been prepared.

In a little speech to the experimenters Dr. Mclvor-Tyndall
emphasised that all he claimed to do was to ‘read concentrated
thought*. He said: ‘I try to entertain people. In each demon-
stration I give, I like people to concentrate; everybody must
concentrate. I want to give a programme in which I can suc-
ceed, and you must help me. For the first demonstration, I
suggest that those present should concentrate upon one of their
number. It is better to form a committee of six persons: when I
am out of the room, these should choose someone upon whom
to concentrate. I will return blindfolded, and describe the per-
son whom everyone is thinking about.*

Dr. Dingwall and I then took the medium out of the stance-
room. We plugged his eye-sockets with cotton wool which
was kept in place with strips of adhesive surgical tape placed
criss-cross from the superciliary arch to the cheekbone. Over all
we tied our special mask or bandage. We thought it improb-
able that he could see.

During our absence from the room, Mr. Soal, Dr. Brown,
Mr. Howe, Mr. Fletcher, Mrs. Richards and Mr. K. Syming-
ton formed themselves mto a committee seated m a semi-
circle. Those not on the committee were indicated by numbers.
Mr. Soal then threw a die and No. 1 came uppermost. As Mr.
Fry was No. 1, the committee agreed to think of him intently.

When we received the signal, Dingwall and I led in the
medium, who groped his way to the semi-circle and seized the
hands of those at the two extremities. The other members of
die committee were told to form a chain by linking hands. Mr.
Soal was at one end of the semi-circle and the medium appeared
to concentrate on him. He dropped Soal’s hand, groped his
way round the circle, again seized Soal’s hand, but finally re-

280 A Clever American Hypercesthete

marked that there was something the matter as ‘I cannot get a

picture’.

At this moment I lit a cigar with a lighter which is almost
silent. But the medium heard me and said: ‘I get the impression
of someone lighting a cigarette.’ Then he said he could get no
impression with Mr. Soal, and seized Dr. Brown’s hand. But he
again failed and finally abandoned the test, saying that the
blindfold was new to him and was causing a sort of psycholo-
gical inhibition. I then removed the bandage.

For the next test, Dr. Mclvor-Tyndall suggested using his
own blindfold, which was a handkerchief made of fairly thick
black silk. I took the medium out of the room and, m my
office, tied the handkerchief tightly round his eyes. We re-
turned to the sA«utt-room. The medium groped his way to the
committee, took Mr. Fletcher’s right hand, then darted to-
wards Mr. K. Symington and at once stated that he was the
person upon whom the experimenters were concentrating.
This was quite correct. During our absence, Mr. Soal had again
thrown the die and No. 3 was indicated. Mr. Symington was
the third on the committee. Not a word was spoken during
this test, which was as clever as it was successful.

The medium was now getting warmed up to his work. I
took him out of the room again and bandaged him with his
own silk handkerchief. For this new test, he was asked to find
die chosen person without previously touching any of the audi-
ence. Immediately I led him into the room, he groped his way
to the circle and touched Dr. Brown on the head. He then
walked slowly round the circle, and passed his hands m front of
two or three persons. He returned to Dr. Brown and said:
‘This is die person!’ That was correct — and very clever.

The next test was also partly successful The medium said
that he received ‘a picture of a person in a striped suit and
striped tie’, and indicated Dr. DingwalL This was not correct,
as Mr. Howe had been chosen. But both Dingwall and

28i

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
Howe wore striped suits and striped ties — hence the not un-
natural confusion.

For the next experiment we tried one of the tests we had
devised for Marion. Five identical tin boxes were placed in
various parts of the room, each location being numbered one to
five. It was arranged that a handkerchief should be hidden in
one of the boxes. I then took Dr. Tyndall out of the room and
blindfolded him with his silk handkerchief. When signalled to
do so, we re-entered the stance-room and the medium walked
slowly round the apartment. Coming to a small table, he
picked up the on box which was lying upon it and said: The
handkerchief is m here!’ This was correct. During our absence,
Mr. Soal had determined the hiding-place of the handkerchief
by means of the die. No. 5 location was on the small table. Not
a word was spoken during this test, which was reminiscent of
some of Marion’s successes, except that the Czechoslovak
hypenesthete was never blindfolded during our tests.

The next experiment was suggested by Dr. Tyndall and was
quite new to me. He stated that if, during his absence, someone
would place a agar m a person’s mouth for a moment or two,
and then hide it in one of our five tin boxes, he would, upon
returning to the room, discover ( a ) the whereabouts of the
cigar; ( b ) the person into whose mouth the cigar had been
placed.

Dr. Tyndall was taken out of the room by Mr. H. W. Sym-
ington, who blindfolded him with the silk handkerchief.
During the bandaging, Mr. Soal threw the die and number six
came up. Counting from left to right, the sixth person in the
room was Mr. Fry, so I placed one of my cigars to his lips and
then hid it in a on on the floor. We called in Mr. Symington
and the medium, who groped his way to the centre of the
room. Dr. Tyndall asked us to concentrate on the hiding-place
of die cigar, and upon the person whose mouth had held it. We
promised to do so. The medium walked slowly round the

282

A Clever American Hypereesthete
room, touching several books on the shelves as he did so.
Then he approached die committee and asked them to link
their hands together. This was done and Dr. Tyndall completed
die circle by holding the hands of the first and last in the group.
He kept repeating, The cigar and the mouth ! The cigar and the
mouth!’ Breaking away from the circle, the medium walked
straight to the tin and discovered the cigar under it.

Having found the cigar, he — and we — now concentrated
upon the ‘mouth’. With the cigar m his hand (and, of course,
still blindfolded) he slowly made the tour of the circle, stop-
ping before one or two of the audience. He paused before Miss
Bcenham and murmured, ‘No, it cannot be a lady’, thus proving
that he could ‘see’ — cither hyperacstheacally or normally with
his eyes. After ‘testing’ one or two more of the experimenters,
he suddenly darted towards Mr. Fry (who had his mouth
open!) and put the cigar in his mouth. The experiment was a
success.

I then produced a new pack of cards in answer to a suggestion
by Dr. Tyndall that he should show us certain experiments. He
asked us to remove three of the cards from the pack, and, in his
absence, touch some part of a person’s body with them, and
then hide them in different parts of the room. He undertook to
find the person touched and the location of the hidden cards.

Dr. Dingwall and I took the medium out of the room, and
thoroughly blindfolded him. On this occasion I used my ban-
dage which I had made specially for these tests. In addition, the
medium’s eye-sockets were plugged with cotton wool, securely
taped on. Dingwall and I then led him into die stance- room.

During our absence Mr. Jackson removed from the pack of
cards the following: seven of diamonds, king of spades and the
two ofhearts. He touched Mr. Symington on the nose with the
three cards. He then hid the seven of diamonds in the ninth
volume in a row of books on a shelf marked Ri. The king of
spades was hidden in Miss Beenham’s note-book, and the two

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 283

of hearts was placed under a large lamp that was standing on a
chair.

When we returned to the room Dr. Tyndall asked his audi-
ence to concentrate on where the cards were hidden. At first, he
tried to find the cards without contacting anyone, and, groping
round the room, touched several books on the shelves, also
Miss Beenham’s note-book. He remarked that he could get no
impression and would like to hold someone’s hand. He then
took Mr. Jackson’s hand, without knowing that it was he who
had hidden the cards. (Neither Dingwall nor I knew who had
hidden the cards.)

Immediately he took Mr. Jackson’s hand, the medium ex-
claimed, ‘I get the impression of books’. He went straight to
one of the bookshelves (of which there are many stacks) and
at once picked out the ninth book (which, of course, was the
correct one) on row Ri, and pushed it back again. He then
took the book next to it (the eighth) and pushed that back. He
again took the ninth book and, m his hesitation, half withdrew
it and pushed it back twice. At the third time, he fully with-
drew the book, opened it, and found the card (the seven of
diamonds) — a brilliant piece of work, considering that there
are more than 6000 books m the stance- room.

Still keeping contact with Mr. Jackson, he led this latter
gentleman towards Miss Beenham, who was sitting at her
note-taker’s table, and passed his hand up and down in front of
her free. Asking her to stand up, he took the note-book out of
her hand, opened it, and found the second card (the king of
spades). Gropmg his way round the room (and still holding Mr.
Jackson’s hand), he stopped opposite Mr. Symington, who was
leaning against a bookcase. Thinking that this gentleman was in
possession of the third card, he turned his pockets out, looked m
die ‘turn up’ of his trousers, and made him take off his right
shoe. Of course he failed to find the card, and suggested to Mr.
Jackson that he was thinking of Mr. Symington. This was

284 A Clever American Hyperarsthete

denied. The medium immediately left Mr. Symington, groped
his way towards die end of the room, stopped at the chair on
which was the lamp, removed die lamp, and found the third
card (die two of hearts). We had witnessed a very clever
demonstration of muscle-reading.

Having found the cards, Dr. Tyndall stated that he would
find the person touched without holding Mr. Jackson’s hand. He
was as good as his word, and went straight to Mr. Symington
and placed his hand on his (Mr. Symington’s) forehead, gradu-
ally lowering it until it rested on his nose. This was correct. It
is easy to see how Mr. Jackson might have been thinking —
subconsciously — of Mr. Symington (who had been touched
with die cards) when Dr. Tyndall thought that a card was
hidden upon him. This was very curious.

Dr. Tyndall then sprang a surprise on us. He said: ‘I will now
attempt to name the cards that were chosen.’ He had not seen
the cards, but they were handed to him, one by one, by Mr.
Jackson. He guessed, or ‘saw’, the first card (the two of hearts)
correctly; the seven of diamonds he thought was the six of
diamonds; the third card was named as the four of spades, but
he immediately corrected himself by saying: ‘I cannot really
see it; I don’t know what it is.’ It was the king of spades. The
bandage was then removed, and the cotton wool and strap-
pings were found to be undisturbed.

We continued with the card experiments. Dr. Tyndall was
again bandaged, and the lights switched off. In the dark, Mr.
Soal selected a card at random and handed it to the medium.
Of course, no one in the room knew what it was. The medium
said it was the eight of clubs. The lights were turned on, and we
found the card was the eight of hearts. Dr. Tyndall had got the
value right, but not the suit. A number of similar experiments
were tried and often die suit was correct, or the number of
pips was right; but the medium was not successful in guessing
both suit and pips with the same card. But the good ‘hits’ re-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 285

corded were suggestive of something more than mere chance.
They were probably due to hyperesthesia of the sense of touch,
which I have discussed at some length when dealing with
Marion.

In the above experiments no one in die room knew what
the selected cards were, as they were chosen at random, in the
dark. As a variant, Mr. Soal looked at a card and then, in the
dark, handed it to the medium, who said it was the two of
spades. It was the two of clubs. Both number and colour were
correct, but not the suit. This concluded the experiments.

After reading the chapter on vaudeville mediums, the reader
will have no difficulty m sharing in our conclusion that we had
witnessed a very clever demonstration of muscle-reading, plus
hyperesthesia of some of the senses. In the case of the finding
of the agar and ‘mouth’, where the medium was not always in
contact with one of the experimenters, it is certain that — con-
sciously or unconsaously — he absorbed indicia unwittingly
supplied to him by his audience. Of course, Marion does this,
but he was never blindfolded during our experiments. In many
ways Dr. Mclvor-Tyndall is even more impressive than the
Czechoslovak. Dr. Tyndall’s performance was the more re-
markable because — he informed us — he has not practised his
‘telepathic’ faculty for many years. If properly presented,
muscle-reading appears very mysterious indeed to die unini-
tiated. But the faculty is more common than is usually sup-
posed, and I know quite a number of people who can demon-
strate it. The distinguished editor of Nature, Sir Richard
Gregory, F.R.S., can ‘muscle-read’, as he informed me during a
demonstration by Maloltz, the ‘singing medium’ and hyper-
aesthete. But muscle-reading must not be confused with tele-
pathy or clairvoyance, though it is often mistaken for these
purely psychic faculties.

XVII. A Tyrolean Night’s Entertainment

In June 1925, on my way to Vienna for some experiments
with Willi Schneider, an account of which has already ap-
peared in a previous book of memoirs,1 1 broke my journey at
Innsbruck in order to ascertain whether the Tyrol boasted of
any mediums.

They take only a very mild interest in matters psychic in the
Tyrol At Innsbruck I found there was a small spiritualist circle
which met at infrequent intervals; and at Hall, a few miles out
of the town, there lives a physical medium with whom I could
not get in touch owing to his absence from home. But if there
were no mediums in Innsbruck, there were mystifiers and
mysteries— one of which I solved.

Before my visit I thought that if there was one place on this
earth free from guile, that place was Innsbruck, where can be
seen Nature in its most sublime— and sometimes most terrible
—aspects, and where man, and the works of man, seem small
and mean indeed. One would expect the truth at a place like
Innsbruck, where the mountains, with their sheer precipices,
thousands of feet high, seem only waiting for a favourable op-
portunity to topple over and bury the town. But it was at
Innsbruck that I experienced one of the most curious deceptions
I have ever encountered.

At a beer-hall or Weinstube there was billed to appear during
my stay a company of Tyrolean peasants’ who, for three
nights, were going to entertain die simple folk of Innsbruck
with ‘mirth, music, and— miracles’ ( IVtmderwcrke ). As I would
go a considerable distance to see a ‘miracle’, the first night
1See Leaves fim a Psydust’s Cast-Bock, by Harry Price, London, 1933,
PP- IT-54-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 287

found me an early visitor seated at a table, within twelve feet of
the low platform on which the ‘peasants’ were going to enter-
tain. The price of admission was one Austrian Schilling (7$d.),

' mitBier ’.

The performers numbered five, all men, who were dressed in
the old and picturesque costumes of the Tyrolean mountaineers.
The ‘back doth’, hung on the wall at the end of die room,
represented an exterior resembling a Swiss chalet, familiar to
most of my readers. In front of the doth was an ordinary
wooden table, at which sat the men with a huge jug or Stein
from which they frequently took copious draughts of amber-
coloured Pilsner. No ‘properties’, except a sort of wooden
sentry-box (which I will describe later), were visible. Truly, I
thought, a very mundane setting for wonders which were
advertised as ubematurlich (supernatural).

I will pass over the first part of the programme, which con-
sisted of some really excellent music on guitars, zithers, accor-
dions, etc., which accompanied their Jodels, songs common
among the Swiss and Tyrolese shepherds. During the interval
the wonder-workers, though claiming a special knowledge of
the ‘other world’, apparendy were in no hurry to go there, and
methodically passed the hat round; after which very material
proceeding the entertainment was resumed.

When the hat had been emptied and the beer-jug replen-
ished, the leader of the party announced that one of his assis-
tants had been gifted by Nature with powers which enabled
him to read a person’s thoughts ‘even at a distance’; to decipher
sealed messages without seeing them; to find stolen property;
to discover hidden treasure and minerals; to tell a person’s past
and future, etc. In fact, this miracle-monger could do anything,
apparently, except raise himself from the level of a fifth-rate
beer-house performer. I awaited his act with interest, espe-
cially as the assistant (who turned out to be die accordion
player) looked anything but psychic.

288 A Tyrolean Night's Entertainment

The leader of die troupe informed us (in German, English
and Italian) that he would blindfold his assistant, who would
then proceed to read die number of any watch while the case
remained closed, die contents of a sealed letter, etc., and asked
for tests. About fifty persons at once shouted that they had
something for the mind-reader. The leader pointed out that
rime did not permit of his offering more than a few tests; and
for the first experiment a young girl of about fourteen years of
age, with flaxen hair and innocent-looking blue eyes, who was
seated with her father and mother at the next table to mine,
would be selected. 1 will add parenthetically that I had my
watch on my table waiting for its number to be read, but the
leader passed me by.

The young girl at the table had in her hand an unopened
letter which she informed the audience had ‘just come’ by
post, and that die sender was unknown to her. I could see the
address was typewritten. After these particulars had been ex-
plained to the audience, the assistant on the ‘stage’ was then
asked to do his best in reading the contents of the unopened
letter. Without the least hesitation, and with no word being
spoken by the leader, the wizard on the platform stated that the
letter had been posted at Salzburg and was sent by a girl named
Anna to her friend Theresa. The letter was typewritten, and the
clairvoyant ‘got an impression’ that it was sent to Theresa
thanking her for her kindness during a week-end visit. The
leader then sated that he would have the letter opened and his
assistant’s words verified. Before the letter was handed over to
the leader, I asked that I might be allowed to examine it — a
request that met with instant compliance. I carefully inspected
die post-mark, stamps and envelope, but could find nothing
wrong with them. The letter was posted at Salzburg (ninety-
nine miles from Innsbruck) the previous day, by the early
morning collection, and I thought it curious that it should have
taken nearly two days to reach the recipient, as the reader will

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 289

recollect that Theresa had ‘only just’ received it But I made no
comment, as anything can happen in Austria. I was convinced
that the envelope had not bom tampered with, and that I
beheld die original sealing. The contents of the letter were read,
and die little maiden blushingly acknowledged that everything
the clairvoyant had said was correct — at which there was terrific
applause, tattoos on tables with beer-mugs, etc.

I pondered over the experiment with mixed feelings. My
first thoughts were, of course, that the ‘test’ was a ‘frame up’,
and that collusion accounted for the seeming ‘miracle*, which
was greater than any accomplished by Stephan Ossowiecki,
Bert Reese, or Ludwig Kahn (famous ‘billet readers’). I repeat
that I thought confederacy accounted for the phenomenon, but
a glance at Theresa’s innocent blue eyes and die stolid counten-
ances of her parents partly reassured me.

The next test was given by an ex-soldier of one of the old
Austrian regiments. It seems that during the Great War false
teeth (both upper and lower sets) were — I was informed —
made up in a series of fittings, numbered, embossed with the
royal eagle, given out to the men who needed them, and regu-
larly inspected with the rest of the soldier’s kit. Our particular
soldier had had an upper set presented to him (perhaps for good
conduct), and he asked the clairvoyant if he could tell die
number of it. Instandy came the reply No. 5434, Senes No.
48B. The soldier acknowledged the correctness of the reply,
removed his teeth, and passed diem round for inspection. My
theory of collusion was becoming more firmly established —
until after the next test.

After the soldier had replaced his teeth, the manager then
‘accepted’ (he had refused quite a number of tests tinring his
progress round the room) a small parcel which looked like a
book from a benevolent-looking old gentleman, who appar-
ently was well known among the audience as he was hailed with
cheers and cries of delight. Curiously enough, I had seen this

290 A Tyrolean Night's Entertainment

man earlier in die day driving a procession of young boys
through die town — evidently a schoolmaster. At last, I thought,
here is a genuine test, free from the taint of collusion.

The parcel the schoolmaster held up (the manager never
touched an article until after the conclusion of the experiment),
looked like a flat octavo book, about eight by five inches, done
up in a brown paper parcel and tied with string. He held the
parcel above his head and requested the seer to tell him the
contents. The fact that the assistant was blindfolded made no
impression upon me. It is practically impossible to blindfold a
person properly without employing drastic methods; but I
certainly was curious as to how the ‘clairvoyant’ was going to
see the contents of the parcel. The assistant admitted that the
problem was a tough one, and insisted that the Stein be replen-
ished. After a long pull at the contents, he said he thought he
could manage it, and proceeded to become ‘very entranced* as
die manager put it; but this pan of the performance was not at
all convincing, though perhaps good showmanship. If the beer
consumed during the stance had contained more than about two
per cent, of alcohol, all the performers would have been ‘en-
tranced’ long before they arrived at the second half of the
entertainment.

After some minutes’ silence on the part of the seer, he an-
nounced that he could see a number of people, mosdy auslan-
iisch (foreign), eating a meal After describing other ‘scenes’
and ‘visions’, he ar last told us that the parcel contained a num-
ber of forms which foreigners at Austrian hotels have to fill up
for die police — the last thing in the world a schoolmaster would
be likely to possess. Thereupon die O berlehrer gracefully
admitted that the parcel did contain police-forms (which he
handed round) borrowed for the experiment from die friendly
proprietor of a Kosthaus (boarding house).

A storm of applause greeted the result of the experiment,
which of course entitled the chief actor to more liquid refresh-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 291

ment. But I confess it left me more puzzled than ever. Of
course I was convinced that the whole affair was trickery from
start to finish, but — except for collusion — I had no theory how
the trick was done, under the conditions. And I could not bring
myself to believe that the headmaster of a school, holding a
responsible position among young boys, would be willing to
play into the hands of an itinerant mountebank. I marshalled
my knowledge of the various codes and signals — silent (visual),
talking, and electrical (telephonic or wireless) — used in acts of
this description, but none would fit in with the conditions, and
one could hardly see across the room for smoke — which would
make the use of a visual code difficult. The Zancigs were not
‘in it’ with the simple ‘Tyrolean peasants’! Frankly, I was non-
plussed, and was becoming impressed with the apparent skill of
the troupe.

For the next experiment a light wooden ‘sentry-box’, open
on one side only, and just large enough to contain a man, was
dragged to the centre of the platform, with the closed side
towards the audience. Into the box the assistant, still blind-
folded, was placed. For the test, the leader accepted a closed bag
from what proved to be a chemical student at die University.
There was no mistake about his being a typical student; he had
the usual scar across his cheek acquired by a fortunate slash at a
recent Mensur or students’ combat. The manager did not touch
the bag, but asked the hidden assistant to name the contents.
This he did very quickly, saying it was a gaseous chemical com-
pound (I could not catch the name) contained in a large bottle.
To prove it, the student opened his bag, pulled out a large
amber-coloured bottle and removed die stopper. Consterna-
tion! A succession of coughs, tears and sneezes proved die cor-
rectness of the seer’s answer, and a radius of several yards
round the student was filled with an indignant crowd using
their handkerchiefs, or what did duty for them. Those who
were near the poison-gas were indignant; those farther away

292

A Tyrolean Night's Entertainment

were amused. Fortunately, being at the front of the room, I
was one of die amused.

Two or three other tests concluded die performance. A local
grocer (and hailed as such) brought a bottle of fruits, wrapped
in paper. The answer was given correcdy, with the added in-
formation that the fruits were packed by Eisler, of Vienna. An
old lady with a shawl round her head wanted to know the
number of her watch. Answer: *The watch is a cheap one, and
has no number.’ Right. This last test ended a very interesting
entertainment.

I left the Stube with die great mystery still unsolved. I was
convinced that the persons (if confederates) who received tests
were not of the ordinary type of ‘assistant’. They were quite
unlike the usual ‘floor-workers’, ‘boosters’, ‘horses’, ‘gees’, or
‘ricks’ attached to some similar shows, and I was awake half the
night trying to worry die matter out. I could not bring myself
to believe that the benevolent-looking Oberlehrer or the flaxen-

haired Theresa with the innocent blue eyes were And here,

at last, I fell asleep.

* * * * *

The next evening found me among die first to pay my
Schilling for die entertainment; in fact, I was the first to enter
the Stube, where I found the ubematurlich accordion-player in
die far-from-supematural occupation of sanding the floor. If
I had discovered him laying down telephone wires, or installing
a radio apparatus, I should have been better pleased. Soon after,
the remainder of the troupe came in, and I think I detected a
look of surprise on the face of the leader. He must have noticed
my watch on the table in front of me.

The rapid filling of the room was accompanied by the still
more rapid filling of the beer-mugs and die waiter’s journey to
the platform with the huge stone jug almost bursting with die

quantity ofPilsner it contained.

The musical portion of the entertainment was concluded

293

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

sooner than on the previous evening, and the ‘clairvoyant’
started business just before nine o’clock. Again the manager
refused to take my watch as a test (I noticed he had glanced at it
several times during the previous hour), saying he would ‘see
me later’. He did, but not in the way he meant! The blind-
folded assistant started off by naming the number of an
Austrian Alpine Club ticket in a sealed envelope, handed up by
a man whom I took to be some sort of railway official. Then he
gave the correct number of cigarettes in a closed cigarette-case
(and the owner’s initials on the inside of the case), and several
other tests — all correct. And the recipients of the tests were not
the same people who had had tests on the previous evening, and
were obviously persons of good standing in the town and
quite above (one would have thought) being parties to a
common swindle.

I left the room about ten o’clock just as perplexed as I had
been on the previous evening. I had one theory only as to how
the tricks (I was still convinced that they were tricks) were
worked— and that seemed preposterous. Then I thought I
would try and have a chat with the manager of the ‘act’, but on
consideration I doubted if he would tell me anything. I even
mentally calculated the cost of getting the troupe to England if
I could persuade myself that the show was genuine— even
genuine trickery. And if the ‘phenomena’ were real— what a
‘find’ for the National Laboratory of Psychical Research, of
which I was then director.

As it was rather too early for me to go back to my hotel, I
turned in at a large caft garden on die beautiful Maria-Ther-
esienstrasse for a cup of coffee. I had been there nearly an hour,
listening to the music, when suddenly I heard sounds oflaughter
behind me (I had my back to the entrance to the garden). The
laughter sounded a little familiar; so turning, I beheld to my
amazement die manager of the ‘Tyrolean peasants* (but shorn
of his glory in the shape of the picturesque Tyrolean costume)

294 A Tyrolean Night's Entertainment

with a number of the persons whose ‘tests’ had proved so inter-
esting. The secret was out! Each ‘guest’ was equipped with a
Stein of beer in front of him — except the manager, who had
apparently brought his big jug with him. The young chemical
student was there talking and laughing with the fair (but frail!)
Theresa, whose blue eyes seemed less innocent-looking than on
the previous evening, though her parents were as stolid as ever.
The benevolent-looking Oberlthrer was apparently telling a
good story to the railway official, and everyone appeared to be
enjoying himself. By the time I had recovered from my sur-
prise the manager of the troupe had seen me, and I think that
the astonishment was mutual. He stared at me for some few
seconds, when I slowly withdrew my watch from my pocket
and dangled it on its chain in front of me. This was too much
for him. He burst out laughing, and, excusing himself, came
over to me. He told me, m excellent English (but with an
American accent), that if I would wait for a few minutes, he
would send his ‘party’ off, and have a chat. His method of
getting rid of his useful ‘assistants’ was by having their mugs
refilled and telling them to hurry up. This they did, and we
were soon by ourselves.

After his big jug had been replenished (this time at my ex-
pense), he unburdened himself. To make it easier for him I told
him that whether the phenomena were real or otherwise, I was
‘in the profission’ either way, and any secrets he might entrust
to me would be sacred. He said he had no secrets, with which
statement I was by then in entire agreement. I asked him how
he succeeded in getting such a good class of ‘booster’ for his
entertainment, and he told me he had not the slightest trouble
in getting all the people he wanted. A few complimentary
tickets and a promise of ‘free beer’ procured for him all the
assistants necessary, and they invariably came from the middle
or upper middle classes. He always preceded his show by a day
or two before it was billed to open, and at once visited the

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 295

cafts, etc., where he found all the material he required. He said
the Church looked askance at the real phenomena (which he
had seen in Czechoslovakia) but tolerated his show which, I
gently reminded him, was based on lies, deception and fraud,
and was the most outrageous entertainment I had ever seen.
He admitted the soft impeachment. He said his helpers entered
into the spirit of the thing. I asked him if they never talked to
their friends about their part of the performance. ‘They do,’ he
replied, ‘but the people in the Tyrol are very simple, and notice
nothing wrong.’ I replied that after my experience at his enter-
tainment I did not consider the Tyrolese particularly un-
sophisticated! I asked him to explain the mystery of the blue-
eyed Theresa’s letter, and whether it had been first opened and
the contents read. He replied that the letter had not been opened
(thus confirming my judgment), but Theresa had been expect-
ing a letter from her girl friend (who had stayed with her the
previous week-end) employed at an office in Salzburg, and she
guessed the purport of it without opening it. The letter had
arrived, as I thought it should have done, by the first delivery
on the morning of the ‘test’, and Theresa herself suggested it as
a good ‘experiment’. I again told my friend that I failed to see
where the ‘simplicity’ of the Tyrolese came m, and that my
faith in innocent blue eyes had been shattered for ever. Espe-
cially when accompanied by flaxen hair !

My friend informed me that he was bom in Prague, had
travelled widely, and had spent six years m the United States,
where he had acquired the modus operandi of ‘putting over’ (his
own term) the second-sight act. He had seen Bert Reese
(famous American billet-reader), and filled to catch him in any
deception. There were many mediums m Czechoslovakia, and
he had seen some ‘real miracles’ there. He would not tell me his
name. ‘My real name is of no interest to you, and I have almost
forgotten it,’ he said, ‘and my stage name I change as often as
my clothes. One week we are Tyrolean peasants; the next,

296 A Tyrolean Night's Entertainment

Hungarian gypsies; then Russian refugees, and so on — accord-
ing to where we are playing. I make about twenty dollars per
week profit, and like die life.’ I asked him a last question: ‘Do
any of your assistants ever let you down?’ ‘Never,’ he replied.
I then told him I thought he must have some extraordinary
secret by which he gained die confidence and goodwill of his
amateur helpers; some subtle power by means of which he
could divert respectable schoolmasters from the straight and
narrow path. ‘No,’ he replied in his best American-German, ‘it
is done mit FreuruJUchkeit und jrei Bier.' Certainly, there was
nothing ambiguous about die beer !

XVIII. Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist

It was with no thought of ‘experiences’ or psychic adven-
tures that I decided to spend the summer vacation of 1926 in
the Bernese Oberland, and my journey to Interlaken was taken
solely in the pursuit of health and pleasure. But my guardian
angel, who never misses an opportunity of thrusting an adven-
ture upon me, was apparently in fine fettle, and I had not
traversed the beautiful Hoheweg promenade more than twice
when I was attracted by a sandwich-man carrying a huge poster
inviting the public to view a film revealing the wonders of
Hypnose und Suggestion, and the audience was promised Ein
Blick in die Tiefen der Seele—Der Film vm Unbewussten (a peep
into the depths of the soul— the film of the subconscious). To
see this Kulturfilm — as it was termed — quite a small sum was
demanded, and I mentally resolved to present myself at the
Adlerhalle (where the film was being shown for one week) at
die first opportunity.

Cinemas and heat-waves do not mix at all well, and several
times I put off my visit to the Adlerhalle in order that I might
witness the Kulturfilm in comfort. But the tropical heat con-
tinued and on the evening I eventually visited the hall the ther-
mometer had recorded a day temperature of 920 Fahrenheit in
die shade. So it will be gathered that the night was hot
The Adlerhalle, Interlaken, is— for a Swiss town— a large
hall and holds about five hundred people. The film was due to
be shown at 8.30 p.m. and just before that hour I climbed die
short stairway leading to the hall At the top of the stairs a girl
was taking die money— at least, she was there for that purpose
had any money been forthcoming. But she told me that only

298 Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist
one other person had applied for admission and he was in the
hall waiting for the audience to arrive. She sorrowfully in-
formed me that unless the audience grew somewhat the film
would not be shown. As apparently die visitors to the Swiss
resort were more concerned in keeping themselves cool than
in having the ‘depths of the soul’ revealed to them, I was not
really surprised that at nine o’clock the ‘house’ was still of the
same meagre proportions. Even the fact that ‘young people’
under eighteen yean of age were not being permitted to view
die film did not on this occasion have the effect of filling the
budding. At this juncture the young man in the hall had his
money returned to him, and I was told definitely that the film
would not be shown that evening. I said I was very disap-
pointed.

Before I took my departure it occurred to me to ask for the
manager, as I thought he might be able to give me some infor-
mation concerning the film. He was fetched by the girl cashier
and entered the hall accompanied by a young man about twenty
years old. The manager introduced himself as Dr. mcd. Gaston
Haas, of St. Just, Zurich, and he apologised — in excellent Eng-
lish—for the fart that he could not show me die film. I again
expressed my disappointment, at the same time presenting him
with my card. Upon learning the fact that I was professionally
interested m psychic matters, he became exceedingly affable
and we had a long chat about psychical research, spiritualism
and occult things in general. He claimed acquaintance with the
late Baron von Schrenck-Notzing, the late Dr. Geley, Fritz
Grunewald (who was then soil living), etc. He also informed
me that he was a hypnotist and that part of his entertainment
was the conducting of experiments in hypnotism and sugges-
tion. There was no indication of this portion of his programme
in the posters I saw advertising the show. 'Dr. Haas’ may have
been merely a turn de tte&tre — I refrained from inquiring too
closely. Real doctors in England do not tour the country with

299

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
cinematograph shows, but things are not quite die same on the
Continent. Dr. Haas asked me if I would care to see the experi-
mental portion of his show, and I gave a glad affirmative in
reply.

It does not often fill to die lot of the psychic investigator to
be die recipient of a private entertainment given by a public
showman, and I felt flattered. Dr. Haas informed me that his
‘company’ consisted of his girl cashier, who also played the
piano during the running of the film; the young man assistant
(whom I had already seen), who was his principal ‘subject’ and
operator of the cinematograph projector; and himself as
lecturer-demonstrator. At 9.30 p.m. on Saturday, July 17, 1926,
we were all ready to commence what I am afraid I must term
the entertainment.

The young man assistant seated himself on a common wooden
chair in front of the white screen. He was told to gaze at the
doctor’s eyes and did so. Immediately the doctor simultane-
ously clapped his hands, stamped his foot, and shouted out
‘ schlafen ’ (sleep), and the youth stiffened himself up in the chair,
at the same time showing only the whites of his eyes, which
became fixed. Dr. Haas told the youth to remove his coat and
turn up his right shirt sleeve. This the youth did quite automa-
tically, at the same time putting out his arm at right angles to
his body. The doctor now drew two parallel chalk fines, about
six inches apart, on the youth’s forearm. He informed me that
he would render insensible to pain the portion of arm between
the two fines. He now produced a fine steel needle (on a
wooden handle) which he proceeded to sterilise with some
liquid. With the needle he several times pricked the portion of
the arm not rendered insensible, and each time the youth jerked
his arm away as he felt the point of the needle. The hypnotist
now informed me that he would plunge the needle through the
youth’s arm and that no pain would be felt as that portion had
been rendered insensible by suggestion. Selecting that portion

300 Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist
of die arm between the two chalk marks, the doctor took hold
of some loose flesh between his fingers and pierced it with the
needle. I carefully watched the youth’s face during die penetra-
tion of die needle, and he unmistakably winced — in fact, he
violently started. I imagined that one was supposed to keep
one’s eyes fixed on the needle during this part of die perform-
ance. The doctor then withdrew the needle and sterilised the
small punctures that had been made. The hypnotist now gave a
shout and the boy ‘awakened’. The youth then left the hall and
returned after a few minutes.

The next experiment was in post-hypnosis. During the
hypnotic sleep of the youth the doctor had willed that five
minutes after he awoke he was to go to a certain spot on the
platform, pick up a small Spanish onion, imagine it to be a
peach— and eat it. I had carefully noted the time which had
elapsed after the boy became normal, and at five minutes fifty
seconds after the doctor had awakened him he went over to the
stage and picked up the onion, which he commenced eating
with avidity, at the same time smacking his lips. The doctor
asked him what he thought of it. The youth — who appeared
absolutely normal — replied that it was the best peach he had
ever tasted. The doctor then suggested that it was not a peach,
but an onion. The youth instantly made a wry face, spat out the
onion and rushed to the door for some water. By the time he
had reached the door the doctor suggested that what he was
eating was not an onion, but a peach. More smacking of lips,
the boy remarking that the ‘peach’ was almost ‘too sweet’.
These alternating suggestions continued, and my own impres-
sion is that the boy overdid this part of die performance.

After die onion experiment the boy sat down again and
became ‘hypnotised’ at a shout from the doctor, his limbs ap-
pearing to be rigid and his eyes fixed. The hypnotist then pro-
duced a box of pepper which he asked me to taste. It certainly
was pepper, though not very hot; it was probably much

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 301

adulterated with arrowroot The doctor then told me that he
would give a large spoonful to die youth, at the same time
suggesting that it was sugar. This was done, the boy chewing it
up with real — or assumed— relish. Before he had quite finished,
the doctor ‘suggested’ that it was not sugar, but pepper, and the
youth immediately made some facial contortions and spat out
the remainder of the pepper. The doctor then took a spoonful
of fine white sugar (which I tasted) and held it to the boy’s nose,
telling him it was pepper. He at once had a violent sneezing fit.
Then the doctor said it was sugar and dpped it into die mouth
of the boy, who commenced to swallow it — until told by the
hypnotist that it was pepper, when it was immediately spat out
with an exclamation of disgust. I am afraid that these onion-
CHm-pcach-cwm-pepper experiments were not at all convinc-
ing. The ‘business’ was overdone. I must confess to a plebeian
fondness for onions and pepper, and I was thinking— as I was
getting hungry— how well they would have tasted accom-
panied by a litde local Gru feres.

At this point in the entertainment two men entered the hall.
It appears that Dr. Haas had advertised to relieve various ail-
ments by hypnosis and had invited the public to come and be
cured. The two men (only one was a patient), thinking that the
film was being shown, had turned up to see the doctor. They
were asked to remain, and the ailing one was requested to come
to the front. He gave his name as Charles Frey, a furniture
dealer, of Interlaken. His ailment— he stated— was a stiff neck
caused by a nervous disease which had commenced fifteen
months previously and which was getting more acute. He had
tried many doctors— including five at Bern — who had been
unable to do anything for him. His friend confirmed these vari-
ous statements. Herr Frey, aged forty-one, certainly looked as
if his neck were stiff by die way he carried his head. He could
turn it, he told us, only with the assistance of his hands. Herr
Frey was asked to sit down by the platform. He did so, and was

302 Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist

told to gaze into the eyes of the doctor who at die same tune
made a few passes around the head of his patient. Then a sadden
shout on the part of die hypnotist and Herr Frey was asleep —
but not rigid. Dr. Haas then asked his patient a number of ques-
tions concerning his complaint which were all answered coher-
ently— too coherendy, I thought. After five minutes of ques-
tioning the doctor told Herr Frey to turn his head slowly to the
right, then to the left, then up, then down, repeating these
orders about a dozen times. They were obeyed instantly. After
a few minutes of these exercises, Herr Frey was asked how he
felt. ‘Fme’, he told the doctor, who now left his patient in the
hypnotic sleep while he turned his attention to the youth again.

Dr. Haas again hypnotised his assistant in the manner already
described and told him that he was the doctor and that he was to
prescribe for die Herr furniture dealer, at the same time suggest-
ing that the youth should ask Herr Frey how old his mother was
and a number of similar silly questions, some of which proved
too much for the risible faculties of the boy, who could not help
giving a hearty — though alleged hypnotic — laugh. Herr Frey
did not answer. The assistant was then told that he was the
lecturer, and was directed to explain the imaginary film to the
non-existent audience. This he did quite well, having seen the
film hundreds of times. The youth was then awakened by an-
other shout and a stamp of the foot.

Dr. Haas next turned his attention to Herr Frey (who was
still asleep on the chair) and put him through some more exer-
cises with a view of restoring his neck to normal. After five
minutes Herr Frey told the ‘audience’ that he felt better, after
which the doctor said he would hypnotise the boy again.

The next experiment with the youth was nothing more than
a card trick. On the platform was a pack of cards and an
ordinary slate which, previous to die entertainment, I had
taken die liberty of turning over. On the underside was chalked
a heart and the number io. After die boy had been put to sleep

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 303

he was handed apack of cards and was told to make an ‘experi-
ment' with them to the imaginary audience. The youth stood
up, went to the front of die platform and shuffled die cards,
asking a spectator to draw one, at the same time explaining
what he was going to do. At this juncture Dr. Haas called die
youth’s attention to the fret that at the end seat of the fifth row
was a rude person making grimaces at the lecturer, and told
him to put him out. The youth immediately jumped off die
platform, rushed to the seat indicated, had a scuffle with the
imaginary interrupter in the empty chair, went through the
pantomime of struggling with a person down the length of the
hall and pushed his invisible captive through one of the exits.
The youth, very hot and flurried, returned to the stage and con-
tinued the experiment with the cards, frees down, which he
again shuffled and presented to his ‘audience’. Dr. Haas took a
card — which I noticed was ‘forced’ in the usual way, except
that here the ‘forcee’ of course was a willing dupe, making no
effort to avoid the card presented to his easy grasp — and showed
me what he had drawn. I was not surprised to see he had
‘chosen’ the ten ofhearts.

After the card trick (there is really no other name for it) the
youth was directed to go over to the piano (in one of the side
aisles) on which the girl assistant usually played, and was told to
turn the leaves of the music for the young lady. This was an
excellent piece of pantomime, the youth going through die
action of turning the leaves, with appropriate pauses while the
imaginary page was being played. He remarked how well the
girl played, and in my opinion this rather spoilt the effect. The
youth was now awakened by the doctor’s shouting at him from
a distance.

Herr Frey next called for the doctor’s attention and— still
sleeping — was put through the usual exercises. He was told by
Dr. Haas that after three visits (for which the doctor received
no payment) the man would be permanently cured. Herr Frey

304 Adventures with a Showmm-Hypnotist

was then awakened by a shout and a stamp of the foot, at the
same rime as a pass was made upwards from the man’s waist.

Dr. Haas now informed me that he would simultaneously
hypnotise Frey and his assistant. The youth and die man were
placed on two chain on die stage and the doctor held up a small
mirror before their eyes, telling them to gaze at it steadily. In
about a minute both appeared to be asleep. The doctor termed
this experiment ‘collective hypnosis’ and stated that he could
simultaneously affect a number of persons in die same way.
Herr Frey was now awakened, but the youth was told that he
had both his legs in splints, and that he was to walk off the
platform into die auditorium. The boy’s legs at once shot out
straight and stiff and the hypnotist assisted him to rise from the
chair. He was then able to shuffle along, but had to be lifted (by
the doctor) off the platform. He was then awakened.

Herr Frey and his friend now left us (it was 10.45). The
furniture dealer’s neck now appeared normal; at least, he could
move his head freely. I invited the doctor and his two assistants
to partake of some liquid refreshment, and we four adjourned
to the cafe below die hall, where we remained about an
hour.

The doctor now informed me that he was determined that I
should see the Kulturjilm if he had to show it to an empty hall,
and invited me to the Adlerhalle for the following evening at
8.30. He said he would beat up the hotels and try to get some
sort of an audience. During our chat he clasped his girl assis-
tant’s hands together and defied her to part them. She tried and
said she could not. He also put his male assistant to sleep just as
the boy was about to quaff his Pilsner. Amusing, but not con-
vinring.

Dr. Haas and I parted very good friends and I dunked him
for his kindness in giving me the special entertainment which I
have described. As a showman. Dr. Haas is entitled to make his
entertainment as interesting as possible, but I must confess that I

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 305

was not at all impressed by his ‘experiments' on his male assis-
tant. One knows that hypnosis is used extensively by medical
men, and I have seen many examples of this kind. I have seen
also many of the alleged hypnotic feats of the itinerant show-
men, aides made possible by the employment of confederates
— ‘boosters’, ‘floor-walkers’, or ‘horses’ as they are called in the
profession — and I must confess that the antics of Dr. Haas’s
assistants were much more like die simulated article than die
real. Everything the boy did could have been done by him in a
normal manner. It is not pardcularly painful to have a sharp
needle thrust through the loose skin of one’s forearm, espe-
cially when that skin is pinched tighdy — a proceeding which
deadens the nerves. And there are many lads who would be
glad to cam a small weekly pittance by eating onions and pre-
tending they were peaches. I was not asked to assist in any of
the experiments; I was merely a guest and spectator.

Concerning Herr Frey I cannot make up my mind. I made
some enquiries the following morning and found that there
was such a person in the town; also that he was in the furniture
business, but I could gather no further information concerning
him in the limited time I had at my disposal. He may have been
genuinely afflicted — and cured — but it seems curious (and un-
likely) that a man capable of curing m an hour what had defied
several doctors for fifteen months should be content to limit his
powers to small provincial halls and hotel foyers. But Herr Frey
appeared genuine and answered all questions without hesita-
tion. Confederacy is a very curious and interesting subject, as I
discovered during my Innsbruck adventure — an experience in
many ways similar to the one I have herewith recorded, and
with which the reader is already acquainted. In the end I de-
cided to give Herr Frey the benefit of the doubt, with die
mental reservation that I would look him up if ever I was in
Interlaken again.

30 6 Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist

I arrived in good time for Sunday’s performance and was
able to glean from Dr. Haas a good deal of information con-
cerning die Kultwfilm.

Ein Blick in die Tiefen der Seek was produced (in 1923) under
die immediate direction of Dr. Curt Thomalla in conjunction
with die Berlin nerve specialist. Dr. A. Kronfeld. Others who
assisted in the production include Professor Adam, Geh. Med.-
Rat Paasch, Professor Bosch, Dr. med. Wolff, Frau Dr. med.
Korzarowa, Theodor Kappstein, Rolf Brandt, Dr. Kossowski,
and Professor Max Dessoir (professor of philosophy at Berlin
University), who writes an introduction to the brochure which
was issued when the film was released. The names of its spon-
sors are sufficient guarantee that the film is intended to be
serious.

By nine o’clock on the Sunday evening about thirty stragg-
lers had assembled m the Adlerhalle and the doctor decided to
commence. The young man who had had his money returned
on the previous evening was again present, and we sat together.
He told me his name was Gore and that he was an under-
graduate of Worcester College, Oxford.

Ein Blick in die Tiefen der Seek is a long film divided mto
seven parts. Dr. Haas read a lengthy introduction to the film,
and between each two secnons said a few words about Mesmcr,
the fourth dimension, etc. During the intervals between the
parts he also carried out some experiments, which were accom-
panied by some most inappropriate music by his girl assistant
acting as pianist To prevent a break in continuity I will first
describe die seven sections of the film, which is of absorbing
interest

Section one is devoted, first, to diagrammatic working models
of the central nervous system and ‘sympathetic nerve system’.
Then come some weird and wonderful mechanical models of
the heart beating, the working of the digestive organs (the
movements of which were accompanied by a lively jazz tune

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 307

from the pianist), etc. After that we are shown working dia-
grams illustrating the conscious and subconscious— or sub-
liminal— mind. We next see a chart illustrating the working of
the mind during sleep, with a photographic story of a girl
somnambulist whose sleep-walking escapade has led her to a
precarious position on a balcony; we see also what caused her
to go to that particular spot. The very narrow division between
genius and madness is exemplified by pictures of the young
Beethoven holding a number of persons spellbound by his art
and the dismal picture of the madman in his cell. The higher
expressions of the mind or ‘soul’ arc depicted by some young
girls performing classical dances, and by a typical ‘spring poet’
descanting to a number of gambolling lambs. Another amusing
animated drawing designed to illustrate absent-mindedness is the
picture of a man reading a newspaper while standing m the
centre of a busy thoroughfare. He is so engrossed in the pnnt he
is reading that he does not see a motor-car which dashes right
up to him and nearly knocks him down. The driver shouts and
blows his hom, but the man is quite oblivious to the threatened
danger. Suddenly a louder blast on the motor hom strikes a
responsive note m the mind of the man who almost collapses
as he realises his immment danger. Immediately after wc see a
working diagram of the man’s nervous system showing the
effect of the sudden shock.

Section two continues to portray graphically the workings
of the subconscious mind. We first see a man’s head divided
into two compartments. In the upper compartment we see the
man himself pursuing his usual vocation — that of an author —
occasionally thrusting through a trap-door into his subliminal
self some sensory ‘impression’ which later he would automa-
tically drag up from below when a visual or other impression
vivified the forgotten incident. The thing was cleverly con-
ceived and arranged, but it is difficult to describe on paper.
We next see the effects of ‘conscience’ on the subliminal self as

308 Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist
expressed in repose. One picture shows us an innocent young
girl in bed peacefully sleeping and die next die fratricide tossing
about in uneasy slumber on his guilty couch. The effects of
auto-suggestion are shown, reminding one of the cures of
Cou£ and similar healers, faith healers, Lourdes and con-
temporary miraculous ‘cures’, etc. — this being typically Ger-
man, by the way.

Section three deals with another phase of absent-mindedness
and is illustrated by die picture of a girl finishing her toilet and
trying to read a novel at the same time. This ‘divided attention’
is responsible for her putting on and removing her shoes and
stockings two or three times over. Then we have exemplified
the potent effects of personality. We see pictures of the orator
and the advocate holding the masses spellbound. Then inci-
dents depicting pictorially mass psychology and the madness of
crowds. Then the wonders of hypnotism.

Section four is devoted to the different methods and phases of
hypnosis. Then die reflex action of the nerves is explained by
mechanical diagrams showing that the effect is produced by the
transmission of an afferent impulse to a nerve centre and its re-
flection thence as an efferent impulse independendy of volition,
seen most commonly m the involuntary and instantaneous
motion of winking when the eyes arc threatened by danger;
also exhibited m continuous alternation in walking, and includ-
ing all acquired habits so far as they become automatic. We are
then shown a sphygmograph (an instrument which marks, by
means of a recording lever when applied over the heart or an
artery, die character of the pulse, and its rate, force and varia-
tions) at work recording on a revolving smoked drum the
difference in the pulse-rate of a subject before and during
hypnosis. The rate was much slower during the hypnotic sleep.
After this we are shown die different stages and states of the
phenomenon of catalepsy, and mechanical diagrams of the
vasomotor nerve system. From catalepsy to the feats of the

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 309

fakirs is a natural sequence, and this section of the film con-
cludes with a very realistic — but rather unpleasant-exhibition
of the tricks popularised in Europe by Tahra Bey and other
fakirs. Knives passed through both cheeks, stilettos inserted
through the neck, tongue, arm, etc., and a man’s hand nailed to
a board are features presented to show a person’s insensibility
to pain during the hypnotic or cataleptic state. Walking bare-
foot on broken glass is also shown.

Section five is devoted to dreams and dream states. We are
shown animated pictures of persons asleep and are told what
they were dreaming about, the assertion being made that the
expression on the face of the dreamer is an index to the subject
of the dream. For instance, we are shown the picture of a beau-
tiful lady with a beatific expression on her face which denoted
— it was said — that the sleeping beauty was dreaming of a new
gown she was acquiring; then we see the picture of a male
sleeper with ‘remorse’ writ large on his countenance, with an
inset miniature of a young girl appealingly raising an infant to
the restless sleeper — a ‘story without words’ doubtless in-
tended to point a moral.

Section six is composed of a series of photographs of hypnotic
subjects taken when they were under control and performing
their various feats, some of which were ‘duplicated’ by Dr.
Haas at his entertainment. Some interesting experiments in
post-hypnosis are portrayed on the screen.

Section seven, the final portion of the film, deals with the
curative effect of hypnosis m cases of nerve disorders, paralysis,
St. Vitus’s dance, etc.; and various ‘cases’ and their methods of
treatment are shown to the audience. Then come the uses of
hypnosis in the treatment of criminals and die prevention of
crime. A scena depicting a young girl ‘willed’ to remove a
paper surreptitiously from a man’s pocket, is exhibited in order
to point out that the girl had to be a willing party to the experi-
ment and that no hypnotist could break down the morale of a

310 Adventures with a Showman-Hypnotist
person; the cleverest exponent could not turn an honest person
into a pickpocket. The film ends by sounding a warning note
against unqualified and unauthorised persons dabbling in the
art of the hypnotist. Hypnotism had won for itself an important
place in therapeutics: it was dangerous in the hands of the
ignorant or charlatan.

The film is intensely interesting from start to finish and is
well staged with the usual Teutonic thoroughness. The me-
chanical effects are clever, and considerable ingenuity has been
expended in the production of the Kulturfilm.

*****

During the intervals Dr. Haas made his usual experiments,
some of which I have already described. I had asked him whether
Herr Frey was coming that evening to be cured all over again,
but he said he had given him ‘treatment’ the same morning
and that he would not attend the evening’s entertainment.

An experiment I had not seen the previous evening was made
by the doctor. He sent his assistant to sleep by the usual shout,
and gradually made passes and strokes up the back of the boy,
who gradually became stiff and rigid. He was then placed be-
tween two chairs, the head resung on the edge of one, his feet
on the other — the so-called ‘catalepuc bridge’. This may have
been an abnormal feat, but I find that I can do it normally. The
girl assistant was then sent to sleep as she sat at the piano, and
she at once played a piece with her eyes closed. I am afraid this
did not impress anyone as the girl had been playing from
memory in the dark for two hours or more.

Dr. Haas then called for volunteer subjects and especially
asked that any member of the audience having an ailment
should come forward. A young man at once went up and said
he suffered from deafness and asthma. The doctor put die
youth under control, but little progress was made with the
asthma. The deafness was in the right ear, to which Dr. Haas
held his watch. The youth said he heard it ticking. The doctor

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 31 1

then went to various parts of the hall to the right of the
‘patient’ and repeatedly called out, ‘Can you hear me?’ to
which question die boy answered usually in the affirmative.
The young man was then awakened and said he heard better
than when he entered the hall. At the time I wondered if it were
another example of auto-suggestion.

My acquaintance, Mr. Gore, then went up to die platform
and submitted to the will of the doctor. He did not sit down
and was asked to close his eyes. This he did while the doctor
made the usual passes, etc. He was then given a little salt and
sugar and asked if he could distinguish between them. He said
he could. The fleshy part of his right forearm was then lighdy
nipped with a pair of forceps, and he was asked if it hurt him.
Mr. Gore said it did not. Discussing the experiment afterwards
Mr. Gore told me that he was normally conscious during the
whole of the experiment, but felt it easier to acquiesce to some
degree in the wishes of the doctor than to refuse altogether.
The experiment was not very successful. I was about to offer
myself as a subject when we discovered it was past eleven
o’clock, and that it was time to close.

I thoroughly enjoyed Dr. Haas’s entertainment, which I have
described at some length as these peripatetic practitioners are
rarely seen m Europe nowadays, though forty or fifty years ago
they were fairly common. The modem public seems little
interested in this particular phase of the occult, which is
eminently suitable for representation upon the screen. Should
any of my readers have the opportunity of witnessing Ein Blick
in die Tiefen der Seele, I strongly advise them to see the film,
which I can thoroughly recommend. And even the other side of
Dr. Haas’s work is not without interest to one whose ability to
discriminate between genuineness and fraud is an essential part
of his equipment; for such ability thrives best when it gets a
reasonable amount of exercise in both directions. Time spent at a
‘show’ like this one is by no means time wasted.

XIX. ‘The Man with the X-ray Eyes’

rr,he possibility of paroptic perception, extra-retinal vision,

X pseudo-vision— or, in simpler language, eyeless sight— has
intrigued a number of distinguished scientists and others for
many yean. Such men as Henri Bergson, Leon Brunschvicq,
Charles Richet, Anatole France, E. Boirac, and Lombroso have,
from time to time, experimented with a view to ascertaining
whether a person can see by means other than the normal
organs of vision. The literature of the subject is scanty, but at
least one student, M. Jules Romains (Louis Farigoule) has pub-
lished a monograph on eyeless sight which is extremely inter-
esting. The title of his book is Vision Extra-Ritiniame, and there
is an English translation.1 Romains assumed that as somnam-
bulistic subjects can, apparently, guide themselves with re-
markable ease, with eyes closed or even bandaged, they may
‘acquire a prodigious delicacy of sensation, and know how to
make use of a thousand signs which a man in a waking state
passes by without notice. Their hearing, touch, and smell
undergo “hyperaesthetic” change and manage sometimes to
take the place of sight.’ Believing that these conditions could be
induced or developed m certain people, he experimented with
several blinded victims of the War and others, and claims some
remarkable successes. Romains invented apparatus designed to
eliminate all objects except the one used in die experiment, and
found that his first subject, a blind soldier named Michel,
‘recognised the digit 4, which was about eight centimetres high,
with lines one centimetre thick, placed under glass’. Michel

Eyeless Sight, a Study of Extra-Retinal Vision mid the Paroptic Sense, by
Jules Romaim, London, Putnam, 1914.

Confusions of a Ghost-Hunter 313

succeeded in following with his finger the outline of the figure
under the glass. With another subject, a Madame X, he ob-
tained some amazing results. The woman was not blind, but
was blindfolded by a number of eminent doctors who asserted
that they were completely satisfied with the conditions, and
quite convinced that the woman did possess paroptic vision.
This is not the place to follow M. Romains through his many
experiments, or to criticise his technique; but undoubtedly he
convinced some Parisian scientists that the abnormal faculty of
eyeless sight had been demonstrated.

The above introduction is necessary in order to emphasise
that reading, drawing, etc, while blindfolded has been studied

Professor K. B. Duke

Kuda Bux

Kuda Bux’s signatures, in Kashmiri characters
scientifically and has been demonstrated in the laboratory as
well as on the music-hall stage. But ‘eyeless sight’, as the public
know it, is exclusively confined to vaudeville acts and to pur-
poses of entertainment: even in this field there are few ex-
ponents, and usually they are quite unconvincing. But at least
one man, Kuda Bux (professionally known as ‘Professor K. B.
Duke’), has provided London with a most interesting enter-
tainment and has been studied by the scientists. He calls him-
self‘the man with the X-ray eyes’.

Kuda Bux arrived in London in die spring of 1935, and my
desk soon became littered with Press-cuttings concerning his

314 ‘The Man with the X-ray Eyes'

feats. He is a Muhammadan from Kashmir, and was bom at
Akhnur on October 15, 1905. He comes from a respectable
family and his father is an official in the engineering department
of the State. Although he more or less maintains himself by die
performance of his peculiar feats, he is not entirely dependent
on his profession for a living. He told me (m excellent English)
that he was attracted to ‘magic’ when a boy, and discovered
that he possessed extra-retinal vision at the age of thirteen.
When he was twenty-two he commenced to demonstrate Ins
faculty, which, he informed me, was perfected four years later,
i.e. in 1931. That is his story.

Undoubtedly Kuda Bux is a remarkable man and has an
engaging personality. His repertoire of feats includes blindfold
reading, drawing, card-playing, etc. He will eat a bundle of hay
if placed before him. He will consent to be buned alive (in an
ordinary grave, with just a board over his face) for a limit of
three hours. He will — apparently — stop his heart and pulse at re-
quest, and demonstrated this tnckin my office. He will dnnk poi-
son. He has performed the classic fire-walk on many occasions,
and he can handle live coals. His versanhty is extraordinary.

When I read the accounts of his performances, I at once
wrote to him. I considered that he was a suitable subject for
observation by the University of London Council for Psychical
Investigation, and I requested him to give us a demonstration.
He consented, and refused to take a fee for his services. I called
the council together.

Kuda Bux met the University Council and others on Wed-
nesday, July 10, 1935, at 2.30 in the afternoon. Unfortunately,
being end of term, several of the council could not be present
owing to examinations or holidays, but the following attended
the experiments: Mrs. Burt (wife of Professor Dr. Cynl Burt);
Professor Dr. William McDougall, F.R.S. (who was on vaca-
tion from Duke University, North Carolina); Mr. C. E. M.
Joad; Mr. R. S. Lambert; Mr. S. G. Soal, of Queen Mary

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 315

College, and the present writer. Notes of die experiments were
made by the council’s secretary, Miss Ethel Beenham.

The hour arrived for the test, and then came the puzzle: how
could we blindfold Kuda Bux so that his normal vision could
not be utilised in any way? Among those present, I was sup-
posed to know most about blindfold tricks, and I was asked to
do the job. But because I am conversant with various methods of
blindfolding, I know that it is the most difficult thing m the
world to prevent a person using his eyes, employing the
ordinary bandages, etc. Something hardly less drastic than a
surgical operation is necessary in order to stop a person seeing.
However, I consented to blindfold Kuda Bux. We had provided
ourselves with surgical bandages, surgical adhesive tape, pads of
cotton wool, and a special ne-on bandage or mask composed of
two thicknesses of heavy black cloth, between which was
sandwiched a layer of cotton wool. Curiously enough, Kuda
Bux brought with him almost identical bandaging materials, m
addition to a lump of fresh dough. We commenced the pro-
ceedings by squeezing a lump of dough into each eye-socket.
Over the dough we placed pads of cotton wool. Over the wool
we put smps of adhesive tape, crossing from the superciliary
arch to the cheekbone. Round the head and upper part of the
face of Kuda Bux we wound a surgical bandage. Over this I
placed the special black mask, which I tied on with two pieces
of thick tape. His head and face were swathed in bandages, with
only the nostrils and mouth free. He was now ready to demon-
strate.

During the blindfolding, Kuda Bux sat at our sconce-room
table, facing his audience. Still seated, he asked for a book to be
placed before him in the ordinary reading position. Walking to
a bookcase, I chose the first book that came to my hand, opened
it at random, and placed it on die table in front of Kuda Bux. I
put my finger on a paragraph, and asked him to read it aloud.
This he did at once, almost as quickly as the reader is perusing

3i 6 ‘The Man with the X-ray Eyes

(his page. There was no sign of hesitation. Other books were
placed in front of him, some with large print and some with
smalL He read them all.

To say that we were surprised is to put it very mildly indeed.
We were impressed with the fra that a man, so bandaged,
could see at all, to say nothing of reading, and we thought that
perhaps we had left a loophole somewhere, and that our blind-
folding technique was not so good as we imagined. So I asked
Professor McDougall if he would make an attempt at binding
the man’s head. Professor McDougall is a psychologist, but he
is also a doaor of medicine, and I thought he would make a
better job of the bandaging. He said he would try. He (assisted
by Mrs. Burt) then blindfolded Kuda Bux again, using the
dough, cotton wool, bandages, tape and black mask. Over all
was placed a black scarf. As before, the nostrils and mouth were
left free.

With hand on forehead, Kuda Bux sat m the same position as
during the previous test, and read my books with astonishing
ease and accuracy. Then I wrote something on a piece of paper,
which was placed before him: he read it at once. After that, he
turned sideways in his chair and Mr. Lambert wrote a short
sentence on the table behind his back: he immediately identified
it, though we were not quite certain that his head was suffi-
ciently turned away from the writer of the sentence for him not
to have read the writing in the same way as he read the books.
This last test was supposed to be a demonstration of his ’seeing ’
behind his back. As a final experiment, we wrapped a black
doth completely round his head, exduded the daylight from
the stance-room, and then asked him to tell us whether the
electric light was on or off— moving the switch up and down
in order to test him. In this experiment he was not successful.

I am quite certain that the intelligent reader who has been
interested in my story is already saying to himself: ‘Why all this
fuss about blindfolding Kuda Bux? Why all this excitement

317

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter
about dough, surgical tape and cotton bandages? Why on
earth didn’t they put the man’s head in a thick blade bag, tie the
mouth of the bag round his neck and tell him to get on with
it?’ Now the answer to these very natural queries sounds rather
startling: the reason we did not do these things was because
Kuda Bux claims that he sees through, or by means of, his nostrils.
That is why we were not permitted to cover the lower part of
his nose in any way. We could have devised all kinds of safe-
guards against his using his normal vision, including the
‘intelligent reader’s’ suggestion of an opaque bag. But we were
not allowed to put the man’s head m a bag, because had we
done so, it would have prevented him from ‘seeing’ with his
nose. ‘That is all very well’, continues the intelligent reader,
‘but if you cannot cover up the man’s nose, it rather looks as if
he can see down the sides of it, however thoroughly his eyes
are plugged or bandaged.’ That is exactly what his critics
assert, and it is, I am sure, the explanation of Kuda Bux’s ‘feat’.
But Kuda Bux is quite unmoved by criticism. He argues —
quite logically — that if all he claims is to do something under
his conditions, it is not fair to ask him to do the same thing
under yours. ‘If it is a trick,’ he says, ‘show me the man who can
exactly duplicate it!’ An obvious way to test the ‘X-ray eyes’ of
Kuda Bux would be to enclose the test book in a box, or not to
open the book at all. But the man does not pretend to read
books in boxes, because something opaque would then be
between his nostrils and the book to be read. We suggested
putting a sheet of cardboard between the book and his free.
But he argued that that broke the first condition under which
he could ‘see’. Mr. Lambert suggested putting a small eye-
shade over each eye, sealing them to the flesh with adhesive
tope. That would have been an excellent test, but we did not
happen to have the shades. Kuda Bux told me that he had been
tested m a similar way in India, die experimenters using small
brass cups. The reader must remember that we had the man for

3 1 8 * The Man with the X-ray Eyes ’

only two hours and could not try out everything. Since his
visit it has occurred to me that a good test would be to pour
into his eye-sockets a warm semi-fluid, opaque, viscous mass
which would neither set nor ‘nm’, and which would strongly
adhere to the skin over its entire surface. I am sure that Kuda
Bux would consent to such a test.

Kuda Bux’s assertion that he ‘sees’ by means of his nostnis
may appear fantastic, and we are not obliged to accept this
‘explanation’. But, curiously enough, Jules Romains, m his
Vision Extra-RJtinienne, has formed a similar theory. I quietly
sounded Kuda Bux as to whether he had ever heard of the
book, and he said he had not. The work is fairly well known m
France, but few people in this country appear to have read the
English translation. Romains states that it is necessary to leave
the nostrils free in order that his blindfolded or blinded subjects
shall distinguish colours. He says that ‘the nasal mucosa is
sensitive to light and to different coloured regions of the spec-
trum. This function is sharply distinct from smell.’ He con-
tinues: ‘The part played by the nasal mucosa leads us to the
following question: is the unknown organ of extra-retinal
vision situated in one part of the body? localised m a single one
or diffused through many?’ Kuda Bux answers that, in his case,
the ‘unknown organ’ is situated in his nose.

Kuda Bux is clever. His ‘eyeless sight’ performance is ex-
tremely interesting, entertaining and puzzling, but our council
came to the conclusion that we had witnessed nothing abnor-
mal. During our test Bux would not allow us to adopt
measures that absolutely precluded his seeing down the side of his
nostrils and, although we witnessed a clever performance, all
we learnt that afternoon was how extremely difficult it is to
blindfold a person, using ordinary methods.

“The Mai with the X-ray Eyes’ is a title that has been
assumed by other ‘eyeless-sight’ performers besides Kuda Bux.
Soon after the War, I was in Berlin in order to see the perfor-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 319

mances of Erik Jan Hanussen, the vaudeville occultist. I was
staying at the Hotel Central in the Friedrichs trasse. One eve-
ning, just after dinner, a messenger brought me a note from a
man named Max Weiss, who was waiting at the office. Weiss
claimed that he had ‘X-ray eyes’ and that he would like to
demonstrate to me. I went to my bedroom and told the mes-
senger to send the man up.

I found that Weiss, like Kuda Bux, was a professional con-
jurer; and, also like Bux, he claimed that his alleged extra-
retinal vision was something apart from mere trickery. The
‘apparatus’ for demonstrating his ‘eyeless sight’ was simple in
the extreme, merely an old, common cigar-box (which had
once contained one hundred Hamburg cigars) which he
brought with him. Weiss said that there was no need to blind-
fold him as the objects used for the test were placed m the
agar-box in his absence, and he would then tell me the names
of them when he returned. He snpulated that only one object
at a time was to be put in the box, and, if I used money, the
pieces were to be of German, Swiss, or Austrian origin. Also,
only the box he brought with him was to be used in the
tests, as a ‘certain amount of his personality had been absorbed
by the wood’. I tried to look impressed.

I sent Weiss out of the room and very carefully examined his
‘apparatus’. Even a agar-box is not necessarily as innocent as it
looks. But a long and intimate acquaintance with faked apparatus
and mechanical boxes of all kinds convinced me that the box
was not prepared in any way. I examined it against the light for
minute holes or cracks, but none was visible and the box was
undoubtedly what it purported to be. I placed a bunch of keys
in the box, closed the lid, placed the box on a writing table and
called Weiss.

With little showmanship, Weiss walked to the table, picked
up the box and, after a pause of about five seconds, informed
me that it contained a bunch of keys. He did not rattle the box.

330 * The Man with the X-ray Eyes

I asked him how many keys, and he said 'eight*. I told him he
had 'seen* correctly, but that there were six keys only. I sent
him out of die room again.

For the next test, I placed my fountain-pen in the box, and,
without touching die latter, Weiss again guessed correcdy.
Then it dawned upon me that the man must have noticed the
pen was missing from my pocket. I invariably carry two metal
pencils and a fountain-pen m my left, top waistcoat pocket,
and their ends are visible to the most casual observer. To test my
theory that Weiss took advantage of my carelessness, I sent him
out of the room again, removed a tube of tooth-paste from the
wash basin, and put it in my pocket. Then I produced from my
suit-case an Agfa three and a quarter inch by two and a quarter
inch film-pack, which I placed in the box. I told Weiss he could
come in. With barely a moment’s hesitation, and without
touching the box, he immediately said he could ‘see’ a tube of
tooth-paste! I nearly burst out laughing when I opened the box
and showed him the film-pack. He appeared surprised, and
asked me to make another test.

For die next experiment I removed my safety-razor case
from the dressing-table and put it m my suit-case. From my
pocket I produced a small scnbbhng-block and placed it in the
agar-box. Weiss came in and I saw him glance round the room.
Then, in his best professional manner, he said: 'I see a beautiful
red leather razor-case, with metal comers, but it is not in the
cigar-box: I see it in your suit-case !’

Of course we had a good laugh over the trap I had set him,
and he admitted that his keen observational powers helped his
alleged extra-retinal faculty. He did a number of other tests,
and some of diem were impressive. He said he did not know
how he managed it, but that his performance was not based
entirely on guesswork or trickery. I agreed. His success was due
partly to his noticing what objects were missing from a person
or place, and partly to an almost hyperaesthetic sense (through

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 321

long practice) in judging an object by its weight or its ‘feel’. He
had used the cigar-box so long that he knew the exact weight of
it. Knowing also the exact weight and poise of many common
objects, if one of these objects were placed in the box, he could
make a shrewd guess as to what it was.

As a further test, I procured a bowl of fruit from die res-
taurant of the hotel, and, selecting an orange and an apple of
almost identical weight and size, experimented with Weiss as to
whether he could tell the difference between die fruit when
inside the box. He tried nineteen times and never made a mis-
take, but he had to roll the contents of the box m order to tell
whether it contained an orange or an apple: the latter rolled un-
evenly, but more smoothly, owing to its shiny surface. After
noting the very slight difference in weight between my
fountain-pen and a propelling pencil which I had with me,
Weiss successfully indicated which was which fifteen times in
succession, when either of the articles was placed in the cigar
box in his absence.

I complimented Weiss on his clever performance and asked
him what made him call upon me. He said he heard I was in
Berlin and, wishing to see me, could think of no better way of
introducing himself than his ‘X-ray’ trick. I suggested that the
late Harry Houdini (i.e. Ehnch Weiss) was a member of his
family, but he said that was not so.

I have tested many music-hall performers claiming abnormal
powers, but I am still waiting to be convinced that a genuine
psychic or supernormal phenomenon has ever been demon-
strated upon the vaudeville stage. I have analysed the feats of
stage ‘mediums’, clairvoyants, ‘magnetic ladies’, ‘strength
resisters’, ‘eyeless sight’ exponents, etc., but I am sure that, in
every case, the results were brought about by die normally
operative motor and sensory apparatus of the body.1

1For a list of works dealing with these fiats of music-hall performers, see
notes to Chapter XV.

XX. Pale Black Magic

A^^inhis Pious Meditation Upon a Broomstick, a very few
years had elapsed since Lord Chiefjustice Hale had— in effect—
publicly avowed his belief in broomsticks as a reasonable and
usual means of locomotion employed by die witches that duty
compelled him to hang. ‘I believe in such creatures as witches,’
he declared at die Suffolk Assizes, 'because the Scriptures had
affirmed so much.’1 This direction to the jury had the desired
effect and he proceeded to sentence Amy Duny and Rose
Cullender, who were duly hanged four days afterwards (on
March 17, 1664). Specifically, they were executed for the crime
of bewitching and conveying crooked pins, needles and two-
penny nails into the bodies of two young children. The chief
‘exhibit’ in this case was a bag of nails which the prosecution
alleged had been vomited by the children. Sir Thomas Browne,
the eminent Norwich physician, was called as an expen witness,
and he explained to the jury, by long and learned arguments,
both theological and metaphysical, how the humours of the
body could ‘with the subtlety of the Devil’ produce a physio-
logical condition resulting m a flux of nails. That argument was
enough to hang anyone.

From a seventeenth-century Suffolk court-house to a war-
time Untcr den linden is a far cry. But twopenny nails have
not altered much during three hundred yean, and we now find
German amateur occultists knocking them into selected por-
tions of a wooden Hindenburg’s anatomy instead of expelling

‘See A Tryat of Witches at At Assizes Held at Bury St. Edmonds for the
County of StqfoBt (before Sir Matthew Hale), London, 1681.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 323

diem from their own oesophagus. They were driving the nails
for luck — a propitiation to die God of War not without its
humorous side.1

But these German patriots, in their enthusiastic attempt at a
little mild witchcraft, had got the technique all wrong. The
female village idiot who, tempo James U, buried the pin-studded
waxen effigy ofher enemy, knew that with every pin-thrust her
victim would be injured in a corresponding vulnerable spot,
eventually succumbing to this vicarious mode of torture. Hus
charming diversion of the countryside is known as ‘sympathetic
magic’ and is still extensively, though discreetly practised.

Though the last English trial of a witch (Jane Wenham) was
held in 1712 (m Scotland in 1722), that, needless to say, was not
the end of witchcraft. On the contrary, when all danger of con-
viction and punishment was gone, the local ‘wise woman’ came
into her own as it were; she assumed an honoured position as
befitted a member of a genteel profession and shared with the
squire and the parson the adoration — if not fear — of the neigh-
bourhood. She also made money at it. Was the pretty milk-
maid pining through unrequited love? A blood-red potion or
philtre was guaranteed to make Amaryllis happy and pull wool
over the eyes of the recalcitrant Robin (who had probably
imbibed it with his evening beer) for at least as long as it took
the happy pair to reach the churchyard wicket after the vital
ceremony had been performed. Were a farmer’s cattle ‘over-
looked? A certain potent herb burnt at the moment of the full
moon would not only break the spell, but the trouble would
be automatically shifted to the belongings of the original tor-
mentor, who would suffer tenfold for not having acquired that
finesse so necessary in this ‘overlooking’ business. In the morning
he would probably find that all the milk had turned sour or his
wife had eloped with the head cowman.

Mention of Amaryllis reminds me that I formerly possessed
1E»ch nail cost a mull mm which was devoted to a War chanty.

324 Pale Black Magic

a collection of Sussex love-tokens, charms or amulets that
bucolic lovers exchanged with each other in order that their
affection might not come unstuck. So long as the token was not
lost or defaced, love’s young dream ran no risk of becoming a
nightmare. But should this happen, well, the token had not
been charmed sufficiently and Amaryllis merely acquired an-
other lover — and another token. Some girls collected diem.
These metallic charms (usually engraved emblems super-
imposed upon a coin of the realm, often with a punning device)
are of considerable topographical and genealogical interest.
One made in my own village reads ‘M.S.L. 1798’ and shows a
rough delineadon of Pulborough Church, with the South
Downs in the background.

A natural sequence to the bewitching business was the trade
of selling antidotes. The supply was equal to the demand, and
itinerant vendors all over the country made a comfortable liv-
ing in pandering to the credulous.

Before me as I write is the handbill of James Halle tt, the
‘curer of all diseases’ and, according to his halfpenny token,
‘mathematician and astrologer’. Hallett professed to cure every-
thing under the sun. His advertisement informs us that he had
specifics for ‘deafness and roaring’, ‘vapours m women’, ‘St.
Anthoney’s fire’, and a thousand other complaints. He guar-
anteed to cure ‘by herbs only’. He specialised in dc-cursing the
victims of the local spellbinder: ‘Nativities cast for the Cure of
Witchcraft and other Diseases that are hard to be cured’, prov-
ing that, as recently as the beginning of the nineteenth century,
being bewitched was as common as having toothache. Hallett
was a noted character in the Downland villages, but could
always be seen at ‘No. 8 Halfway-house’, or at his ‘New-
House, Wcstgate, Chichester’, several times a week.

In addition to the witch-doctors who had regular stands in
the towns and villages, peripatetic vendors of love-philtres,
prophecies, oracles, magical mirrors (in which, if one followed

326 Pale Black Magic

die somewhat disgusting instructions, one was supposed to get
a sly peep into futurity), and rejuvenating elixirs abounded.
The marvels claimed for the last-named would have turned
Dr. Voronoff and his monkey glands green with envy.
Another circular {circa 1800) which I possess advertises a con-
coction, ‘Elixir Grandior, or Aurum Potabile of the Ancients,
and Sovereign Restorative for Health and Long Life. Prepared
by Jasper the Hermit, Rosicrudan Philosopher, Physician,
and Botanist.’ Were he living to-day, Jasper would be a pub-
licity agent.

Very little change in the beliefs or practices of the credulous
has occurred during the past hundred years. Human nature still
hankers after the unknown, and if fortune-tellers and vendors
of magical nostrums have sunk to the level of a vagrancy act,
die demand is still met — especially in the more remote country
districts where the inhabitants are supposed to be less sophisti-
cated. The itinerant merchant who sells cattle medicines in the
village market-place will, for a suitable consideration, supply
an antidote for the ‘evil eye’, and (if the risk be not too great) is
not above compounding a sure-fire prescription which he hands
to his client with the guarantee that it will ‘charm’ his neigh-
bour’s cattle or his daughter as the case may be. Peddling
gipsies still do a good trade m herbal abominadons which, were
they caught, would bring them within the criminal law. For-
tunately, their filthy nostrums rarely have the effect hoped for
by die unfortunate serving-wench who is driven by despair into
the arms of these Romany charlatans.

There is many a little chandler’s shop, ‘chemist’, or herbalist
in die smaller country towns in whose musty back room a most
amazing collection of charms, potions and ‘cures for witch-
craft* can still be found. I have lived in a village for twenty
years and have heard of many cases. On market days the credu-
lous of both sexes surreptitiously steal into these places and, in
an apprehensive whisper, inquire into the possibilities of a cure

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

327

Great News to the Afflifted ! ! !*

JL Oall who are aSUSed with Difeafes, let them be ever (o
ftubborn or Iona (landing or if given up by Phvficuns, or
tamed oat of Hofpiul* incurable, (hall, with the help of COD,
be radically Cured, byjruca Hauirr, ihe original Curer of
aH Difeafes.

Cancerr, King's Evd, Scrofula and Scorbutic Eruption*.
Sort Heads, Scald Head*, Desfoef* and Roaring Noife in the
Head, BUndnela and Bad Eyes, Defeafeaof the Head, Brains,
and Nefrp, Patfy, Apoplxey, Lethargy, Coovolfiona, Frenzy^
Vertigo, mv eteratc Head Ache, deplorable Nervous Diftemperu
Melancholy in men, and Vapours in Women, Biliooi cafes.
Debility, IndigefUon, Coughs aud Coulds, Lownees of Spirits
Loft of Ap^xtitc, all Impurirv of the Blood, Relaxation,
Rheumatic and outber Gouts, Yellow, Red, and otheo

£ indice, Agues, Ailhma, and ill Difesfes of the Lungs,
ulcerated Lungs it L’vers, (Irengtbem the Liver, tho
Memory nude good. White Swelling in the Knee, St.
Antkoney’s Fite, St. Vnee's Oioct, Curns either bard or fofc
and a certain Difcafe, whether fsefli or thirty years (landing.
Cured by Herbs only, Weui of alt fixes, and all outher difeafes
am tedious tormention. Cured by James Hallett, the original
Carer of all difeafes.

He may befeeaat bis New Houfe three doon from the Waggon
and- Lamb, Weft-Gate, Cbichefter, every Wednefday and
Thoaflay morning until 10, and Saturday until j o'clock.
To be feea at No. 8 Halfway. houfe, on Srturday evening,
Sunday Monday and Tuesday, until 1 1 o'clock, Thnrfday
evening and Friday, ontil is o’clock.

A Univtrfrl Ointment for the Chilbl.ius and ChapHanda,
that will Care them in a few hours if not Broke, and aa other
Ointment that will foot) cure them if Broke.

Ladies and Gatlcmin waited on at their own Houfea. on
tbe (hotted notice.

Nativi/iea caft for the Cure of Wstehenfe audoAo
Ddcafci that arc hard r 1 *

Reproduction of handbill of James Hallett, the Sussex
charlatan. Note the reference to the cure of witchcraft.
Chichester, 1795-97.

328 Pale Black Magic

for all sorts of extraordinary ailments— mostly magical The vic-
tim of the Devil's machinations departs with a few dried herbs,
some complicated instructions, and is satisfied. Auto-sugges-
tion does the test and the herbalist makes another grateful client.

In some parts of Central Europe foe chemists' shops in foe
more remote towns and villages resemble veritable museums of
dried anatomical specimens, curious powders, rare herbs and
gums, and strange-looking liquids composed of stuff that would

Reproduction of halfpenny bronze token of
James Hallett, foe Sussex charlatan.

not look well in print. I remember once examining the intenor
of a little shop in a village near Prague and the description of
Romeo’s apothecary was forced upon me:

In tatter’d weeds, with overwhelming brows
Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,

Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;

And m his needy shop a tortoise hung,

An alligator stuff* d, and other skins
Of ill-shaped fishes; and about bis shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes. . . .

I asked the proprietor what all his extraordinary remedies
were for and he replied that they were for ‘various ailments’,
and we left it at that. In a comer I noticed a large bunch of
dried leaves of garlic, near which no self-respecting vampire
would dare to venture. By foe way, garlic when eaten does not
have foe same effect.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 329

The belief in witchcraft is still rampant die world over, and
I am continually getting reports of cases where half-demented
old women have been put to death for causing dire calamities to
their neighbours. The following cases, which have recently
come under my notice, throw a curious light on the much-
vaunted enlightenment of the masses.

A year or so ago, an Bast Prussian farmer named Frederik
Rick complained to the magistrates at Marggrabowa of the
extraordinary dungs he had to do at the command of a witch
who undertook to bring him prosperity. He had to write in
honey on a dun cake of bread the magic words ‘Adonis dear,
Adonis my own! Thou canst do all. Thou art friendly and thy
goodness is eternal. Help me this once. Thou art the Lord!’
Then he had to wash his hands and face in water on which the
morning sun had never shone; to say a prayer to Adonis seven
times, and tie a cake of bread round his neck. At the same time
he had to lend the witch a carnage ; he had to get the heart of a
white toad and tie it with three feathers under the seat of a
bicycle he had bought for a ‘wizard’ who was assisting the
witch. He provided thirty yards of ‘English cloth’ to darken the
room m which the witch called up spirits. After the siance was
over Frederik found he had lost 1200 good Reichmarks, and
that fact appears to have awakened his slumbering intelligence.
The witch and wizard were taken to court and, failing to con-
vince the magistrates that they could fly up the chimney on a
broomstick, were sentenced to three months’ and six months’
imprisonment respectively.

As recently as June 26, 1930, a man was fined at Tipperary
for assaulting a woman who had gone to the famous well at
Cashel in order to be cured of an ailment. The woman arose
before dawn, walked to the well, drank its waters and walked
round the well three times while reciting the rosary. She was
about to repeat the performance when the defendant caught
hold of her, broke the beads and said, ‘Now the spell is

330 Pale Black Magic

broken!’ He was fined four pounds ten shillings for his lack of

faith.

Amongst other cases reported to me was the one of the
young woman of Genoa who, in February 1928, lost her hand-
bag in a motor-bus — and added to the gaiety of nations in con-
sequence. An employ^ found the bag, which contained,
amongst the mysterious articles usually found in such a recep-
tacle, a small cardboard box containing a bleeding heart pierced
with a number of pins. The man was horrified and, scenting a
crime, hastily conveyed the handbag to the nearest police
station. An address in the bag enabled the police to identify the
owner, and she was promptly invited to explain why she
travelled around with bleeding hearts stuck with pins. For a
long tune the girl refused to give any information, but at last
she confessed that, having been abandoned by her lover, she had
consulted a witch, who told her to get the heart of a lamb
freshly killed, pierce it with pins, and bury it in a comer of the
cemetery at Staglieno, together with the unfaithful swain’s
photograph: this would infallibly ensure his return. The girl
was on her way to perform this rite when she lost her handbag.

Not all the cases of modem witchcraft are as amusing as those
I have cited. A short time ago a poor old woman who lived
near Prato (Florence) was shot dead within a few yards of her
own house because the death of a neighbour, a young girl who
had just died of some wasting disease, was laid at her door. She
was murdered by the brother of the girl, and the act was en-
dorsed by local public opinion, who branded the victim a
noxious witch and a dabbler in the Black Art. Occasionally in
Italy one sees a cradle containing a baby slung up high against
die roof, and only lowered at feeding tune. Thu elevated posi-
tion is to stop die witches ‘biting’ the child.

Even as I write these lines, a man named Abel Tenneguin,
aged thirty-erne, has just been acquitted of the murder of a
’wizard’ by the Angers (Touraine) Assize Court. The wizard’s

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 331

name was Jably, a man who performed all kinds of magical
rites. During the trial it was stated that he ‘treated sick cows by
bringing to the cowshed a bullock’s heart into which he inserted
about four pounds of needles. The heart and die needles were
placed in a saucepan, and on the stroke of midnight on a
Friday, Jably buried the whole on die left-hand side of the
entrance to the shed. The sick cows recovered. Jably was so
feared by the countryside that, in desperation, Tenneguin shot
him dead m bed. The jury approved the murderer’s action by
acquitting him without hesitation.’1

Hundreds of thousands of persons m Great Britain admit that
witchcraft is still to be counted amongst the possibilities, and
something in the way of a magical curiosity was presented to me
some years ago by a sailor who had just returned from a fishing
expedition in one of the old sailing vessels. His home was in the
Isle of Man, and just before he started on the voyage a local
‘wise woman’ had sold him a length of cord with three knots
in it. Should the ship become becalmed, the untying of the
first knot would raise a gentle breeze. If this did not suffice, the
second knot was untied and half a gale was the result. The man
was warned on no account to loosen the third knot, as a terrific
hurricane would destroy his ship. The reader will note the
subtle play on the man’s fear concerning the third knot, thus
going a long way towards compelling him to believe in the
efficacy of the first two — and inducing him to buy die cord.
He never had occasion to test this particular ‘rope trick’, and was
about to join a steamship.

Many of the Welsh are particularly superstitious and thor-
oughly believe in witchcraft. A lecturer at the Folk Lore
Society’s Congress, held in London in 1928, gave some striking
examples of their credulity. He quoted the case of a medic?!
man who, when visiting a patient, found a moleskin tied round
his neck. The man was wearing it in order to ‘cure the asthma’
1Daily Mail, July 25, 1935.

33* Pale Black Magic

— which it did. The doctor induced his patient to discard the
skin, and the asthma immediately returned. Such is the power
of mind over matter!

The Welsh witch-doctors sometimes sold their clients ‘letters
of protection’. One in the possession of the lecturer read: ‘In the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost,
Amen. And in die name of our Lord Jesus Christ, my Re-
deemer. I will give thee protection and will give rehef to thy
creatures, thy cows, thy calves, thy horses, thy sheep, thy pigs,
and all creatures that live in thy possession from all witchcraft
and other assailants of Satan. Amen.’

Witchcraft in some countries is officially admitted. To con-
trol the abuses of witchcraft the Government of Kenya drafted
a Bill m 1925 which is known as the ‘Witchcraft Ordinance,
1925’. The Bill provides for the punishment of ‘any person who
holds himself out as a witch-doctor able to cause fear, annoy-
ance, or injury to another in mind, person, or property, or who
pretends to exercise any supernatural power, witchcraft, sor-
cery, or enchantment’. Even the possession of charms is punish-
able with a sentence of a year’s imprisonment or a fifty pounds
fine. This ‘Witchcraft Ordinance’ has merely driven the prac-
tice underground— nothing can eradicate it.

Sometimes witchcraft becomes a real nuisance and one can-
not but feel sorry for the New York Onondaga Indian who, in
die early winter after a fill of snow, has to frighten the witches
away from his com-po under — or suffer the consequences. The
witch-scarer wears a horribly gruesome mask, fastens a wo-
man’s skirt round his knees, makes a terrific din on a rattle
fashioned out of a huge snapping turtle, and with his pestle in his
hand defies die witches. He ends the ceremony by throwing his
pestle at the pounder, and all is well.

Of my own experiences of witchcraft I will say a few words.
One day I was motoring through a Devonshire lane and
stopped my car by the side of a coppice where I noticed some

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 333

daffodils growing. In the centre of the coppice I saw die kneel-
ing figure of an old woman who was chanting some verses. At
my approach she hobbled off. Upon investigation I found that
die moss upon which she had been kneeling had been dis-
turbed, and kicking the soil with my heel I unearthed a large
cork into which matches had been stuck to represent arms and
legs, four black pins forming a sort of face. As I was examining
this curious evidence of sympathetic magic I found that the
old hag had stopped and was hurling imprecations at me, her
‘curses loud and deep’ contrasting strangely with die rest of the
mise-en-scbic. Did they have any effect upon me? They did: I
had a beastly puncture on my way home !

The second case I will allude to was a much more sinister
affair. I happened to be staying m Pans and was invited by a
friend to hear an address on black magic by a young Indian. I
learned that after the lecture there was to be a sort of a digni-
fied ‘Black Mass’, and in my capacity of Foreign Research
Officer to the American Society for Psychical Research I sent m
a request to be present. My application was refused, but my
friend was permitted to take a guest; so I went after all, but un-
officially.

The house we went to was situated in the fashionable £toile
district m a road which connects the Avenue dc Wagram with
the Avenue MacMahon, and quite near the Arc. We were
ushered through a court, up some stairs au deuxihme Stage, where
a strange sight met our eyes; a sight, I may add, quite unlike
the Witches’ Sabbath of mediaeval literature.

There were about twenty persons in the room, the walls of
which were covered with alternating strips of black and yellow
cloth, the whole illuminated by means of a moon-coloured
lamp. At the far end was a simple altar, behind which stood die
young Indian with a white man, both dressed in what looked
like bath robes. In the front of the altar, with his back to us,
stood a perfectly black negro boy, quite nude, holding a

334 Ptffe Blade Magic

smoking chafing di«h On the altar was burning some sort of
resinous substance, the dense and acrid smoke from which
filled die apartment. About every five minutes the two ‘magi-
cians’ would chant some sort of incantation and immediately
there appeared in the smoke from the altar tiny black figures
which danced about in a life-like manner.

That is all that happened and, to be candid, I was rather
bored with the proceedings. The little black figures intrigued
me, but as I could not investigate, to this day I am not decided
whether die figures were produced by trickery (a secreted cin^
projector, with a suitable film, focused on the smoke, would
produce this illusion) or genuine black magic — probably die
former. But certainly there was nothing of the hideous obsceni-
ties of the genuine Black Mass so minutely described in the
Chambre Ardente during the examination of La Voisin and her
co-Satanists (among whom was Madame de Montcspan) of
the Rue Beauregard.1 I strongly suspect that the whole affair
was staged in order to advertise the lectures I have mentioned.

To assert that the practice of -witchcraft is dead is ridiculous.
Every day I receive evidence of the existence of the cult. But
not all witches wear conical hats and ride on broomsticks.
Sometimes they rent expensive flats, affect a discriminating
taste in French lingerie, and keep two can. These ‘witches’ are
the fashionable fortune-tellers who inhabit the purlieus of
Bond Street.

Among the peasants of certain parts of Germany — especially
the Harz district — witchcraft is soil accepted as a fact. In the
spring of 1932 I did my best to enlighten the natives by intro-
ducing into the Goethejakr celebrations a magical experiment
known as die ‘Bloks berg Tryst’.

In the autumn of 1931 I acquired a manuscript which is an
early nineteenth-century transcript of a page of the so-called

1See La Sorcellene et la science des poisons au XVII* stick, by A. Masson,
Pans, 1904.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 335

‘High German Black Book’ — a hand-written volume of magi-
cal formulae which is preserved in one of the German museums.
The 'Black Book’ dates from about the fifteenth century, and
contains much ritual for the practice of transcendental magic;
and amongst the experiments is one called the Bloksberg Tryst.
Bloksberg is the old name for the Brocken, highest of die Harz
Mountains. The MS. I acquired is a copy of the Brocken experi-
ment.

In 1932 was celebrated throughout Germany the centenary
of the immortal poet Goethe. The Harz Goethe Centenary
Committee (the Harzer Verkehrsverband), hearing that I pos-
sessed a copy of the ritual of the Bloksberg Tryst, invited me to
reproduce the experiment as part of the Goethejahr celebrations.
I consented. Another reason why I decided to go — quite un-
officially— was that I wished to emphasise the absolute futility
of ancient magical ritual under twentieth-century conditions.

Goethe made an intensive study of magic and witchcraft, and
his classical scene of the Walpurgisnacht m Faust has done
much to immortalise his ‘divine comedy’. That Goethe studied
the original of the Bloksberg Tryst is almost certain, as several
correspondences between the old MS. and the Walpurgisnacht
are apparent.

The MS. is written in an early nineteenth-century hand in
faded brown ink, almost illegible in places. In the centre of the
MS. is the magic circle painted in two colours (red and blue)
with the usual symbols. On the reverse of the MS. is an engrav-
ing (undated) of the town of Bacharach, on the Rhine, by the
German artist, R. Puttner. The verbatim translation of the
original ‘Tryst’ is as follows, with my annotations in square
brackets:

The Bloksberg Tryst

This is a true faire and perfect means of excelling over Nature
and has been truefully proved in the presence of the writer

336 Pale Black Magic

after many trials during his travels in the Low Countries.
Exact conditions will prove that all things are possible to the
God of Nature if all instructions are obediently obeyed with a
good heart. What is related here I have seen with mine own
eyes — Vita si scias uti longa est [Life is long if we know how to
use it]. On the foremost peak of the Bloksberg [Brocken, one of
the Harz Mountains, 3733 feet high] the test must be made
with a pure heart and mind and selfless mtentennon [intention].
The time between one day before to one day after the Moons
fullness is neccesary but best in the Winter season. He that seeks
the Almighty power must place himself on the foremost Peak
of the Bloksberg at the time appointed. His servants must be a
may den pure in heart in fair white garments and a virgin He
Goat. Let thy mouth and heart be free from foulness. Let the
student test my words by the light of a Pine fire which is neces-
sary. Neer the Granit Altar let the Student set the following
Magic Symbols which must be sette out in white of a bigness
suitable for his test. [Here comes the magic circle.] The apex of
the Triangle must direct to the Tower of Kassel the base will
then cover the Hexentanzplatz [a village m the Eastern Harz
Mountains; a rocky plateau, 1480 feet high] so named of the
witches who dwell there. Havcing set his symbols demanded by
ye Black Booke as presenbeth above in all their correctness he
taketh his servants mto the inner House of the Triangle within
the Circle of Power. The Goat he putteth before him the May-
den taketh her place by the side of the Goat which she leadeth
on a white silken cord. He then hghteth a bowlc of faire incense
which bumeth for 1 5 minutes the Student repeating the follow-
ing in all lowliness Mutare et insignem attenuat deus obscure
promens [Should be; Valet ima summit Mutare, et insignem
attenuat deus, obscura promens (Horace), i.e. God hath the power to
change die lowliest with the loftiest, and He maketh the great
men weak, bringing to light things hidden in gloom]. At the
end of the appointed time the Mayden anointeth the Goat say-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 337

ing Terra es terram ibis [Dust thou art, to dust thou shalt return].
Ye Goat is then to be turned round three times against ye
sunne and ye mcence rekindled. The Student then handeth the
Mayden a vessel of fair red wine saying Si Deus nobiscum quis
contra nos [If God be with us, who shall be against us?]. The pine
fire is then dampeth by ye servant of the Student outside ye
Circle of Power and the incence is dampeth by ye Student. All
should now be of a blackness except for ye light of ye moone.
The Mayden now taketh ye vessel of wine and poureth it
slowly over ye head of the Goat at the same time repeating
Procul O procul este profani [Begone, begone, ye profane ones].
At the ending of the words a blackness obscureth the moone
and a pin hght comcth from the Tower of Kassel. At this
moment the Mayden quickly covereth and completely hideth
the He Goat with a faire white cloth when an apparatation
[apparition] is seeneth within the Triangle. Instanter the cloth
is rcmoveth by the Mayden and a faire youth of surpassing
beauty is seene m the stead of ye Goat. This have I witnesseth
myself. From ye High German Blacke Booke. The ungent
[unguent, for anointing the goat] is prepared from ye blood
of bats caught before ye midnight hour scrapings from a church
bell to be mixed with soot and bees honey mto a fair ointment.
Not for melancholic persons.

*****

The magic of the Bloksberg Tryst is not nearly so black as it
has been painted — in fact, it is white magic, because no diablerie
enters mto it. The ritual itself is familiar to students of mediaeval
necromancy, and the components we recognise as old friends:
a magic circle with the usual symbols, a triangle, a pine fire, a
bowl of incense, a ‘pure virgin’, a ‘he-goat’, Latin incantations,
and a noisome unguent made of bats’ blood, scrapings from
church bells (obtained for me by a friendly bell-ringer from the
belfry of a Sussex church), soot and honey. All these essentials

338 Pale Black Magic

can be found in a hundred magical formulae. No one can deny
that die ancient sorcerers loved the picturesque.

Where the Bloks berg Tryst differs from similar experiments
is that it can be effective only at a certain spot (on the Brocken
‘necr the Granit Altar’) and only during a full moon. And the
apex of the triangle has to point to the Tower of Kassel and its
base to the Hexentanzplatz — a famous plateau opposite the
Brocken where tradition has placed the scene of the witches'
orgies. So we journeyed to the Brocken as the guests of the
Harzer Verkehrsverband , determined to carry out the experiment
with scientific exactitude in order to forestall any criticism by
die remaining devotees of the Black Art. I was accompanied by
Mr. C. £. M. Joad, whose interest in magic and psychic matters
is well known.

We arrived on the Brocken on Friday evening, June 17,
1932, and found everything m readiness except the moon. A
‘magic circle’ accurately designed in mosaic had been laid
down ‘neer the Granit Altar’, and a white kid, specially chosen
at birth, was trotted out for our inspection. The ‘maiden pure m
heart’, m the person of Miss Urta Bohn, daughter of Dr. Erich
Bohn, of Breslau, was a waiting us, and her spotless white dress
did not seem out of place at a magical experiment.

What did seem out of place at such a test were the forty-two
photographers, seventy-three Pressmen and a ‘talkie’ set-up.
These professional gentlemen comprised almost our entire
audience at the first trial, which was merely a rehearsal. To the
clicking of cameras, and by the light of magnesium flares, the
rehearsal proceeded more or less smoothly. We found that our
pine fire was too fierce and it was impossible to extinguish it in
the time prescribed by the ritual. The ‘maiden’ was not word-
perfect as regards the Latin incantations — and imprecations —
and some minor details of the experiment were inaccurately
staged. But all these defects were remedied the next evening.
We finally arrived at the stage where the maiden had to cover

octhcfahr

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 339

die goat with a'faire white doth’, die metamorphosing effect
of which was to convert the goat into a ‘youth of surpassing
beauty’. The Press reports of this rehearsal rather stressed die
point that the ‘goat remained a goat’, as if the reporters really
anticipated the appearance of the magical Adorns !

The real experiment was on Saturday, June 18, 1932, and
fortunately the Pressmen and photographers had departed to
their respective offices and dark-rooms, and we were left in
peace. But the moon again deserted us. A few silvery gleams
between the clouds earlier m the evening raised our hopes, but
by midnight the mountain top was enveloped in mist and the
first essential — according to the ritual — to the success of the
experiment was absent. I had to point this out to the large
crowd which had assembled on the Brocken. I emphasised the
fact that as the moon was absent it was rather absurd to make
the experiment. But I was persuaded to proceed with the test
as so many persons had come to do homage to Goethe and his
associations with the Brocken, and did not want to be dis-
appointed. Still hoping that the moon would appear at the
psychological moment, we proceeded with the Tryst, and this
nmc everything went well, and there was no hitch. The spec-
tators were intensely interested, and you could have heard the
proverbial pin fall during the performance of the ritual. Again
quoting the morning newspapers, ‘the goat remained a goat’.

It is a reflection on the popular Press of this country that the
chief items of the programme arranged for this unique evening
have never been reported at all. Though our magical experi-
ment was a fitting finale to the Goethe mght arranged by the
Harz administration, it was not the most important item. And
I am sure that the majority of the great crowd which assembled
in and around the Brocken hotel was present in order to enjoy
the Goethe feast provided by the local authorities. A pro-
gramme— as wonderful as it was interesting — was arranged as
a suitable setting for our experiment.

340 Pale Black Magic

The programme began at eight o’clock on Saturday, June 18,
1932, with a large dinner party, during which Professor Dr.
C. A. Pfeffer, the distinguished Goethe authority, introduced
die English viators in their native language. Mr. C. E. M. Joad,
Dr. A. vor Mohr of Gottingen, and the present writer replied.
Mr. Joad’s address dealt principally with magic, witchcraft and
the raison d'etre of our visit. After the introductory speeches a
band of players under Rudolf Hartig, director of the Wemi-
gerode theatre, staged the Hexenkiiche scene from Faust, a well-
acted representation of the famous witches’ kitchen.

Then Professor Pfeffer delivered a brilliant address, Bedeutung
von Goethes I. Harzreise Jur ihn und uns, which elicited tremen-
dous applause, and which I hope will be published.

Then came what I considered the pike de resistance of the
evening — the classical Walpurgisnacht scene from Faust per-
formed by Herr Hartig and his players amidst the granite rocks
of the Brocken, on the site which inspired Goethe to write the
Brocken scene for his immortal poem. The lighting effects
were a joy to behold, and the scene was weird m the extreme.
Mephistopheles, Faust, Irrhcht, the Witches, Lilith, Gretchen,
General, Minister, Parvenu, Author, Will-o’-the-Wisp, Prock-
tophantasmit — all were there, and the magical lighting effects,
softened by the evening mist, were truly wonderful. This was
indeed real magic — the magic of the theatre. Afterwards came
other scenes from Faust, the whole interspersed with Harz folk
music by the peasants and miners in their ancient dress. It was
well worth journeying to the Bloksbcrg to participate in such a
Goethenacht.

Although our principal object in staging the Bloksberg
Tryst was to ridicule the idea that magic ritual, under modem
conditions, is still potent, we are not so foolish as to imagine
that we have entirely succeeded: superstition is not so easily
killed as all that ! But the experiment was worth reproducing, as
die investigation of such things is perfectly legitimate when

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 34.1

carried out in a scientific manner; and I consider that the result
of our test has advanced us a stage in our knowledge of ancient
magic ritual.

The scoffer will tell us that because we had no faith, the ex-
periment was not conclusive; in other words, that die formula
will not work automatically. That is all very well, but what
sort of a state do we have to induce in order that the magical
metamorphosis shall take place? The fifteenth-century scribe
who compiled the Black Book says of the Brocken miracle:
‘This have I witnesseth myself.’ But in my opinion the old man
had worked himself in to such a condition of ecstatic enthusiasm
that he was really in a state of auto-hypnosis or self-induced
trance, and when he ‘saw’ the goat change mto the ‘faire
youth’ it was merely an hallucination. I think he wrote out the
formula m good faith. Quite a different type of scoffer will tell
you that belief in witchcraft and black magic no longer exists.
This assertion is merely ridiculous. A short time ago a number
of South German labourers were imprisoned for nearly killing a
‘witch’ alleged to have overlooked their catde. In the Harz dis-
trict— the last stronghold of paganism in Germany — the belief
m witchcraft is still rife, as I discovered for myself during my
visit.

The trip to the Brocken was not without its amusing inci-
dents. I have already remarked that paganism died hard in the
Harz country, and I was told there were still witches to be found
amongst the mountains if one searched long enough.

We had made Gottingen our headquarters for the prepara-
tion of the Brocken experiment, and during a reconnoitre in the
Harz country we heard that there was a ‘real live witch’ to be
found in or near Wemigerode. Our informant was a German
lady, and she told us that if we journeyed to Wemigerode she
would undertake to get the witch there by hook or by crook.

Joad and I were elated at the thought of meeting a modem
disciple of his Satanic majesty, and 1 had visions of sampling her

343 Pale Black Magic

‘brew’, and perhaps filming her having a ride on her broom-
stick, as I had taken a cinematograph camera with me.

At very considerable trouble and with several hours’ motor-
ing we duly arrived at Wemigerode for the appointment— or
rather disappointment, as we discovered that the Zauberin was a
buxom young actress who had once played the part of a stage
witch! Of course, we all had a good laugh and that was the end
of our witch hunt.

But we heard some good news in Wemigerode. The lady
who found us the ‘witch’ informed us that Halberstadt (where
she resided) was much interested in our magical experiment
and that our fame in that place was so great that it had been
decided to confer on Joad and me the ‘freedom of the city’.
Would we accept the honour? Of course we said we would,
and it was arranged that on the following afternoon we should
motor to Halberstadt for the ceremony.

The question as to how we should dress for the ‘presentation’
did not worry us much as our wardrobe was extremely limited.
Eventually Joad decided to put on his white drill suit which
had created a sensation in Gottingen. I tossed up to see whether
I would wear my dinner jacket and opera hat or a lounge suit.
The latter won.

We speculated as to how the ‘freedom’ would be ‘conferred’
and I thought what a nuisance it would be to have to carry a
golden casket around with us: the illuminated address we could
post home.

We arrived on the outskirts of Halberstadt in good time, and
slowed down our car in order to make an impressive entry.
The streets were quite deserted and 1 thought it curious that the
town band did not turn out to meet us. However, we reached
Frau X’s house as arranged and, after some refreshment, we set
off to be introduced to the Biir germeister. We found his repre-
sentative in his shirt-sleeves, at his stationer’s shop, doing a
brisk trade. Introductions over, we all adjourned to the beaud-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 343

ful Rathaus, , where we were introduced to the mayor, who
showed us his parlour and pictures of departed Biirgemeister,
and welcomed us formally and officially. We then signed our
names in the Visitors’ Book. The ladies of the party were
excluded from this part of the ceremony.

Afrer about fifteen minutes’ conversation about nothing in
particular, die mayor saluted us and a clerk bowed us out. We
had received the ‘freedom’ of Halberstadt! We forgot to
inquire what the privileges were, but we were impressed with
the simplicity of every one concerned— especially ourselves!

The Brocken experiment was the means of establishing a
newspaper, the Brocken-Post, the first number of which con-
tamed an account of our experiment. Speaking of newspapers,
the Press of the world fully reported the experiment. A few
journals, in order that they could make fun of the whole affair,
pretended that we went to the Brocken with the firm convic-
tion that the goat would change into the ‘faire youth’. But most
of the papers realised that the trial of such experiments is worth
while, the Evening Standard remarking (June 18, 1932) that the
‘investigation of them is a step forward m the progress of

science The true scientist inquires mto the meaning of all

phenomena without prejudice.’

XXI. ‘I Have Seen the Indian Rope Trick *

I have seen Ac Indian Rope Trick. At least, I have seen a
clever representation of that great illusion which has intrigued
newspaper correspondents for so many years. The performer
of Ac Trick was Karachi, assisted by his diminutive son Ryder,
aged eleven.

Before I proceed furAcr, I had better describe Ac Rope
Trick of traAnon. There are many versions, but the story which
makes its perennial appearance in Ac Press is more or less as
follows: a fakir, dressed in flowing garments, and accompanied
by one or more assistants, selects a site for Ac Trick and pro-
ceeds to collect a crowd, which he carefully places. The per-
former takes a long rope, uncoils it, swings it round his head
and lets Ac free end soar skywards — where it remains. WiA
words which sound like imprecations, he commands a fright-
ened-looking youngster to climb Ac rope. The boy obeys and
disappears into Ac clouds. WiA a knife between his teeA the
fakir follows the boy, disappears, and a few moments later, to
the accompaniment of ear-piercing screams, Ae horrified spec-
tators see pieces of boy, mutilated and gory, tumbling out of
Ae blue. When Ae Aock of Ae ‘tragedy’ is at its height, they
are amazed to see Ae fakir re-coiling his rope, at the same time
as Ae ‘victim’ is found at the back of the crowd, begging for
baksheesh. That is Ae traditional Rope Trick, stripped of its
trimmings.

Has the Rope Trick ever been witnessed in its traditional
form? I do not think it has. I have carefully analysed all Ae
accounts of Ae Trick which have come under my notice, and
in each case there was a flaw, such as a fruity memory, in-

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 345

correct sequence of events, mal-observation, ignorance of
deceptive methods— or sheer lying. There was always some-
thing that would not stand up against cold analysis. Certainly,
there have been rope tricks in the form of conjuring illusions or
stage turns, and I will deal with these later. Also, there have
been seen boys balanced on tops of bamboo rods, which travel-
lers termed the Rope Trick. But that was because they could
not tell a bamboo from a rope. The mass-hypnosis ‘solution’
is merely a legend: science will not admit that a number of
persons can be hypnotised simultaneously under the conditions
imposed by an itinerant showman.

On Apnl 30, 1934, one of the magical societies convened a
meeting at the Oxford House Theatre, Marylebone, in order to
kill the Rope Trick stone dead and give it a decent funeral. The
Trick was rather knocked about, but it survived, as the subse-
quent correspondence m The Listener proved. I was invited to
the obsequies and on the platform with me were the late Lord
Ampthdl, a former Viceroy of India, and several other distin-
guished persons who had lived m the East, and who had gone
out of their way to see the Trick. But not only did they not see
it, but they could find no responsible person who had. They
received accounts from travellers who had mistaken the bam-
boo trick for the genuine article, which rather reminds one of
the old lady who, after a tour of India, remarked that the most
inspiring spectacle she had seen was ‘the sun setting behind the
Aga Khan’. I reiterate that there is no scientific evidence for the
Rope Trick m its traditional form, and the Oxford House
meeting confirmed this view.

The outcome of the Oxford House ‘funeral’ was a verbal war
which, for several months, entertained readers of The Listener.1
One of the protagonists wrote to the editor and said that he had
seen the Rope Trick on the sands at Plymouth. Not only had
the Tnck been performed, but it had been photographed— and
1See The Listener from the end of May 1934 until April 1935.

346 7 Have Seen the Indian Rope Trick ’

he enclosed the pictures themselves to prove it. The photo-
graphs were reproduced1 and they looked impressive.

There was nothing ambiguous about them. There was the
rope, straight up in the air, apparently defying gravity, with
Karachi squatting at the base and Kyder, like a monkey,
clinging to the top of it, several feet above the ground (see
Plate XH).

It can be imagined that The Listener pictures fell like a bomb-
shell among the conjurers — especially those who were so cer-
tain that the Rope Tnck could not be done, by any means.
There were cnes of ‘Fake !’ Of course: the Rope Tnck must be a
rope fake. As a correspondent in The Listener pointed out,
‘What is a trick, if it is not a fake? Is a trick less of a fake for
being “genuine”, or is a “genuine trick” a trick that is not a
tnck?’ In the Concise Oxford Dictionary (3rd edition, 1934) the
meaning of the word ‘trick’ is as follows: ‘Fraudulent device or
stratagem; feat of skill or dextenty, knack, precise mode of
doing or dealing with a thing’, etc. In other words, the Rope
Tnck is a trick.

But the conjurers would not have it. They admitted that
nearly all tricks are tricks, but that the Rope Tnck is some-
thing else. They said — in effect — ‘It is a supernormal trick’!
That is, a trick that cannot possibly be done. So they offered
any person five hundred guineas if he could do it.

I became interested in Karachi and his particular Rope
Trick, and, through the kindness of Mr. R. S. Lambert,
arrangements were made for the performance of the tnck in
London. Owing to mechanical and spatial difficulties, the
Rope Trick, as an illusion, has never been popular as a vaude-
ville act, and Karachi is to be congratulated upon not only
doing die Trick in the open air, but upon performing it before a
body of sceptics who made no secret of the fact that they were
present to discover the modus operandi. Karachi (his real name is
1See The Listener for Dec. 5, 1934.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 347

Arthur Claud Darby, and he is English) was invited to London,
and I will now give the story of his somewhat protracted visit.
After some correspondence, it was arranged that Karachi
should be in London on the morning of December 31, 1934,
prepared to do the Trick. He duly arrived at our rooms, com-
plete with Kyder and full Eastern regalia. But, like a bolt from
the blue, he informed me that he was not going to do the
Trick, and that at least four days’ preparation of the site was
necessary. Also, he had to scour London to find a ‘certain rare
mineral’ which had to be planted in the ground where the
Trick was to take place. I informed Karachi that I had selected
Mr. C. E. M. Joad’s Hampstead garden for the demonstration,
and that I was sure Joad would not mind how many rare
minerals were planted on his property. I also told Karachi that a
distinguished audience was awaiting us at Hampstead, and that
he had better make his apologies to them.

At Hampstead we were met by the editor of The Listener and
his friends, and I had to break the news to them. They were not
only surprised and disappointed, but somewhat hurt at
Karachi’s not warning them that he required four days in
which to prepare the Trick. As some compensation for our
trouble and loss of time, Karachi consented to don his Eastern
robes and do a few rope-balancing feats, which were quite
good. Feeling rather less disgruntled, we took Karachi out to
lunch and asked him point-blank what he came to London for.
His reply was to the effect that, given time, he was quite willing
to do the Trick. He specified one of those wide, open spaces
where he could work on the site without being overlooked.
We agreed to all his conditions and found him a large field at
Wheathampstead, a village a few miles north of Hatfield. He
agreed to perform the Trick on the following Monday, January
7, 1935-

I have already described the traditional Rope Trick, which is
usually accompanied by a traditional mise-en-sdne : blinding

348 7 Have Seen the Indian Rope Trick '

sun, cerulean skies, scorching sands, a— very convenient— hazy
horizon, with attendant palm trees and Sons of the Desert. The
field at Wheathampstead was not a bit like this: it was a cross
between a quagmire and a brickfield. But to compensate for
these shortcomings, it was next door to a comfortable inn,
‘The Nelson*, which was the agreed rendezvous.

We arrived in a cold drizzle, which turned to snow, accom-
panied by a bitter nor’-easter. We found Karachi and his son in
the bar parlour, all blacked up and wearing the robes of their
profession: voluminous garments of red and yellow, with sky-
blue turbans. Kyder had bare feet. In another room of the inn
we discovered the remainder of our party, which included the
following: Mr. R. S. Lambert; Mrs. Mary Adams, of the
Talks Department, B.B.C.; Mr. J. W. Brown, the owner of
the field; Professor C. Daryll Fordc, the anthropologist, of
University College, Aberystwyth; Mr. W. E. Williams, Sec-
retary of the British Institute of Adult Education; Miss Ethel
Becnham, Secretary of the University of London Council for
Psychical Invcsdganon; Mr. Alex. L. Dnbbell, a student of
the occult, and myself.

Having fortified ourselves within against the elements raging
without, we made our way to the field. Karachi had planted his
rug on a slight eminence — an ideal pitch for the ‘talkie’ set-up
which had been arranged by Gaumont-Brmsh Films. Before
the Trick, Karachi did some clever sleight of hand work with a
pack of cards which, after three minutes, were sodden with
snow. He then very cleverly balanced a six-foot rope hori-
zontally on his hand and vertically on his chin. Then I spoke a
few words into the microphone by way of introduction,
and Karachi commenced his great Trick, which I cmemato-
graphed.

Squatting on his rug like a real fakir, with Kyder by his side,
he threw us a thick rope about six feet long. We examined this,
and passed it bade. It was not prepared in any way. Taking the

Karachi and his son, K\der, performing the Indian Rope Trick.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 349

rope under a star-spangled velvet cloth which he used as a
screen, an end immediately reappeared, pushed up from below
with a jerky movement. It was quite rigid, and rose to a height
of about five feet; « was then withdrawn. Another rope, about
eight feet long and two inches in diameter, was then passed to
us. It was unprepared, but very loosely woven. In the same way
he placed die second rope beneath his cloth, and again an end
appeared and crept upwards with a jerky motion. It was
noticed that the rope was now tightly woven and very rigid.
When about eight feet of the rope had been paid out, Karachi
commanded his son to climb up it — which he did with con-
siderable agility. We had seen the great Rope Trick!

Arrived back m the more congenial atmosphere of the bar
parlour, Karachi was about to tell me exactly how it was done.
But I stopped him. No one needed telling how the Trick was
done. It was obvious to every intelligent person within a radius
of fifty yards that the showman had used a certain method of
performing the illusion, and the effect was very good indeed.
It would not be fair to give away his secret. His son, Kyder, did
not disappear when he reached the top of the rope, but Karachi
informed me (and explained the method) that even that classical
ending of the Trick could be arranged. I congratulated him
upon doing the Rope Tnck so cleverly, and under such
wretched conditions. I told him that, with a little more show-
manship, he could make it even more convincing. In the hands
of a Houdim, it would look like a miracle. But we did not
grumble. We had seen the Rope Tnck — and in a snowstorm!

My report on Karachi’s achievement was duly published
(with photographs) in The Listener,1 and that started the ball
rolling again. The conjurers said that the Rope Trick Karachi
did was not the Rope Trick, but just a rope trick (without
capitals). They said that the Rope Tnck was not really a rope
trick, it was a . . ., but I will not weary the reader with what
lSee The Listener for Jan. 16, 1935.

350 7 Have Seen the Indian Rope Trick'

they did say, because we have been through it all before. But

they tenaciously clung to their five hundred guineas.

Another bombshell was in store for the conjurers: Karachi
sent them a challenge, which was published in The Listener.1
The terms were as follows: ‘(i) The conjurers to deposit the
sum of two hundred guineas with a neutral party, who is to
decide whether I have performed the Tnck satisfactorily or
not; (2) the rope is to nse up through my hands, while I am in a
sitting posture, to a height of ten feet from the carpet on which I
sit. It is to remain there erect while my son Kyder climbs up it,
and remains with his hands at the top for at least thirty seconds
while he can be photographed; (3 ) the rope shall be an ordinary
thick rope with a good grip, which shall be supplied by any
well-known rope manufacturer on a specification as to length
and girth which shall be agreed between myself and the con-
jurers; (4) the place shall be any open place chosen by the
neutral party, provided that its conditions arc not dissimilar to
those which obtain m India. This Trick ought to be performed
as nearly as possible under natural Indian conditions. The
neutral judge or judges should be satisfied that these conditions
are fair to me. Furthermore, I am to be allowed access to this
place for at least forty-eight hours previous to the performance,
and during that access I must not be spied upon. This is m
accord with what the Indians do, for they always perform the
Trick on native ground, and never in the white man’s private
enclosure; (j) the rope shall be handed to me after examination
at the commencement of the performance. The spectators shall
be anywhere in front of my carpet at a distance of not less than
fifteen yards.

‘I will add that I am able to perform all my Rope Tricks on a
table which can be examined beforehand. This disposes of the
suggestion of bamboo, canes, telescopic rods, etc. Now, Sir,
these are fair conditions, and if the conjurers are really seeking
1See The Listener for Jan. 30, 1935.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 351

enlightenment they will accept my challenge, and this much-
disputed tradition will become a reality.’ The conjurers refused
to accept Karachi’s challenge.

The question now arises, has the Rope Tnck ever been seen
in die East, in any form? I am certain that it has. The evidence for
its performance is much too strong for us to deny that the
Trick itself is a complete myth. But I believe that what travel-
lers have seen is just a conjuring illusion, very skilfully pro-
duced. I not only believe this, but I have first-hand evidence
that such is the case. I make no apology for quoting this evi-
dence in extenso, as I believe it solves the mystery of the classic
Rope Trick.

A few years ago I came across an account, in the Berliner
Illustrierte Zeitung ,l of an account of the Rope Tnck by the late
Enk Jan Hanussen, the occultist. I knew Hanussen slighdy (I
had met him in Berlin) and I am certain that he wrote a true
story of what he saw. The illusion was witnessed by Hanussen
and his friends at a place called Hillah, an Arab village near die
ruins of Babylon. I have made a translation of Hanussen’s story,
and here it is:

‘The chief performer was Abu Nasser, an enormously tall
Arab with a long white beard, dressed m a flowing garment
(Haik) of dazzling white, and wearing white sandals. His
assistants were two Arab men and a diminutive, dun Arab boy.
They had brought with them an enormous basket and a care-
fully rolled up rope.

‘We were placed in an exceedingly small roped-in enclosure
and had to promise faithfully not to leave this on any account,
as it would break the magic. I was at once struck by the fact that
we were obliged to face the sun, and felt certain that this was
not arranged by chance.

1<Du Fakirwunder des gcheimmsvollen Sells’, by ‘Enk Jan Hanussen’ (U.
Hermann Stcinschneider), in the Berliner Ilkstrierte Zeitung, Berlin, Oct. 31,
X»30.

35»

7 Have Seen the Indian Rope Trick'

‘Aba Nasser and his assistants then threw themselves down
and began incantations and prayers. This was kept up for fully
over an hour. I immediately realised that this was solely done
for the purpose of wearing us out, tightly squeezed together as
we were in that small enclosure m the blazing sun, and thus
prepare us for the illusion. Indeed, a few of the spectators
felt ill

‘Then the actual performance started. As I had always sus-
pected, the “rope” was not a rope in the real sense of the word.
The extremely careful manner in which it was rolled up made it
at once dear to me that it was a cleverly constructed apparatus,
cut from the bones of sheep’s (rams’) vertebrae and skilfully
covered with sailing cord. If one understands how to link the
numerous pieces of these together by cleverly twisting the
“rope”, the at first flexible material is turned into a solid stick
which, without anything else, just like a bamboo suck, can
support the weight of a heavy man. Abu Nasser and his assis-
tants took the rope, holding it at the ends and in the middle,
and then, with a sudden jerk which was really marvellous, they
threw it into the air, where it actually remained. The lower end,
however, as I immediately noticed, stuck to a depth of at least
one and a half metres in the desert sand. It is more than probable
that it was also held below the ground by another helper, or
even two, who were secretly concealed in a previously cleverly
constructed pit. Moreover, the rope was, of course, held by the
two assistants above ground. These two stood with their backs
turned to us, their hands spread out in an imploring manner
so as to create the impression that the rope was being kept in
the air by some secret formula. In reality, however, the rope
was fixed through the belts of the two men and thus held by
their bodies. It was highly interesting to see how the illusion
arose that the rope was reaching high up into the skies. The
explanation is that our eyes, through the long staring mto the
glaring light of the sun, were inflamed, tired and dazzled. The

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 353

end of the rope ran out to a point, and, although the rope was
really not so very long, it gave one the impression that it was of
enormous length, reaching right into the clouds.

‘The little boy, who was clad in a tight black knitted gar-
ment, was first to climb the rope. He did this with the agility of
a monkey. Then Abu Nasser, a knife between his teeth, fol-
lowed him. Suddenly — I could hardly trust my eyes — both had
actually vanished. My friend and I looked at each other amazed,
and might still be standing there struck, if a penetrating smell
had not caused us to cough, when we also noticed that Abu
Nasser and the boy had surrounded themselves with “clouds"
by means of some “smoke’-producing preparation not known
to us. This, together with the dazzling skies, the blinding sun m
our eyes, and the hazy horizon, created the illusion of com-
plete disappearance. The whole had barely lasted a few seconds,
when we heard terrible screams from above and the terrified
spectators saw pieces bemg thrown down into the basket.
First a pair of arms, then the legs, then the trunk, and finally
the head, all blood-stained.

‘During this time I had snapped pictures with my “Ika”
camera, which I had carefully concealed m my belt, and the
enlargements I made later on proved that the “limbs” were
only stuffed rags which had been stained with animal blood.

‘The next moment, it was clear to me what really had hap-
pened above, for when Abu Nasser was again visible and, hold-
ing the blood-stained knife between his teeth, climbed down,
I could see that the little boy was concealed under his master’s
Hoik, where probably the imitation “limbs” had previously
been hidden.

‘When Abu Nasser was about half-way down the rope he
jumped into the basket, stamping like mad on the pieces of the
“murdered” boy. A few of die ladies present screamed. Then
Abu Nasser stepped out of the basket and sat down murmuring
prayers. With his hands he made imploring movements over

354 * I Have Seen the Indian Rape Trick ’

the basket and thus brought the poor child back to life. Sound
and merry the young son of the desert jumped out of die basket,
and went to collect his baksheesh (tip) as quickly as possible,
whilst the minds of the spectators were still filled with horror
and sympathy.

*The whole thing was now quite clear. When Abu Nasser
jumped into the basket with the boy still hanging on to him
under his Hoik, the youngster, protected from view by the high
walls of the basket, crawled out, hiding the “pieces” in the
basket under his master’s garments. This done, Abu Nasser
stepped out of the basket, knelt down and prayed. During this
time the “underground” helpers drew the “pieces” down mto
the sand (protected by Abu Nasser’s garment) and by the time
Abu Nasser rose, there was no trace of anything left. He could
show the empty basket, and, furthermore, take off his garments
(which he actually did) to prove that no contrivance of any
kind was concealed therein.’

Though I commenced this chapter by stating that, m my
opinion, the Rope Tnck has never been seen m its traditional
form,1 1 will conclude by saying that I am equally convinced
that the Trick itself has been witnessed as a conjuring illusion,
accounts of which have been distorted and exaggerated by
credulous travellers who were completely ignorant of the
deceptive methods employed by the itinerant Eastern magician.

*Aj dm work goer to press, die author has been informed by General Sir
Ivor Maxse, K.C.B., that he saw the Indian Rope Tnck when a subaltern in
India. It was performed in the traditional manner, and Sir Ivor thinks that
the audience must have been hypnotised.

One of the ambitions of my life was to witness the fire-
walk as performed by native devotees. I have been in
several countries where the ritual is occasionally practised, but
always missed it — sometimes by a few hours only. The fire-
walk is a ceremony or rite — often of a religious character—
which has been performed in various parts of the world for
hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. The details of the ritual
vary in different countries, but one feature of it is always the
same — the walking of devotees or ecstatics barefoot over hot
stones or smouldering embers, placed usually in a trench, short
or long, broad or narrow, according to the district where the
spectacle is staged. It is done in India by priests, fakirs and other
ascetics; it is performed in Bulgaria,1 China, Tahiti, Japan, Fiji
Islands, New Zealand, South Africa, Trinidad, Mauritius and
Honolulu. But it was never seen in Great Britain until I staged
two experimental fire-walks for the University of London
Council for Psychical Investigation on September 9 and 17,
1935, respectively. Kuda Bux, the Kashmiri Indian (‘die man
with the X-ray eyes’) was the performer, and the feat created
the greatest interest among scientists and the official observers
of our University Council. Kuda Bux has done the fire-walk in
India on several occasions, and is thus acquainted with the
technique of the ceremony.

Is fire-walking based on trickery? Can anyone do it? Do the

lSee Bulgeristhe FestbrUuche, by M. D. Arnaoudoff, Leipzig, 1917, pp. faff.,
for account of the fire-walkers (Nastmarki) of Vurgan, Bulgaria.

3 5 6 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England
performers prepare their feet? Can they convey their alleged
immunity from bums to other persons? Do the ‘walkers’ bum
their feet? Do they prepare their feet with a paste made of
alum, salt, soap, and soda, as has been alleged? Does one have
to be in an ecstatic or exalted condition? Does one have to
possess ‘frith’? Do die wood ashes (in the ember walk) form an
insulating layer on top of the fire and thus prevent burning?
Does die performer use an anaesthetic on his feet? Is the callosity
of die skin the secret of the immunity from bums? Does the
fakir have to hurry along the trench, or can he stroll? Does the
devotee have to fast or otherwise prepare himself — mentally or
physically — for the ordeal? These and similar questions we
hoped to elucidate at our tests — and we found answers to most
of them. The fire-walk has always been a supreme mystery and
of perennial interest to newspaper readers. Judging from the
correspondence which The Times printed in 1934,1 the interest
in fire-walking is greater than ever. Some readers believed that
natives who walk about without any foot covering acquire a
toughening of the soles of the feet which explains the im-
munity from injury in fire-walking; others did not. We have
proved that the skin does not have to be callous.

Before I describe the two rather exciting and intensely inter-
esting fire-walks which I staged, I will give three typical
examples of fire-walking m other places, viz. Umbilo, Durban
and Singapore. It is very necessary that the reader should know
something of fire-walking, in order that he may contrast the
cold-blooded performances of Kuda Bux with die frenzied
exhibitions witnessed in the Orient and elsewhere. The ac-
counts have been selected from my large collection of works on
exotic rites.

In Natal, in the early spring of every year, there is witnessed
ceremonial fire-walking which is made the occasion of a holi-
day and festival. The following is an account of the perform-

1SeeThe Times, London, for period between Feb. 14 and Mar. 3, 1934.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 357

ance as witnessed by a reporter of the Natal Advertiser.1 It was
held at die Umbilo temple:

‘Thousands of people thronged the vicinity of die Umbilo
Hindu temple yesterday afternoon to witness the strange
religious ceremony, Theemeethe (or Treemiri), or fire-walking.
Europeans jostled Indians in their endeavour to see the pro-
ceedings, which were even more weird than the ceremony
which took place last month.

‘A representative of the Natal Advertiser attended at the
special invitation of the Hindu priest, and after witnessing the
fire-walking, examined the soutris carefully. Six tons of fire-
wood were used in making the fire over which the worshippers
walked, but they suffered no harm to their feet, although the
embers were white hot.

‘Two medical men, Dr. Goldberg and Dr. Witkin, also
examined the soutris, and the former said he could offer no
physiological explanation of the normal condition of the
Indians after their terrible ordeal.

‘The ceremony began m the morning when the temple was
made ready for the fire-walking. The tons of firewood were
piled in their fire pit, which measured some 14 feet by 10 feet.
About 1 1 o’clock the fire was lit and burnt so fiercely that no
one could approach within yards of it.

‘In the meantime the Hindus who were to undergo the
ordeal had adjourned to the banks of the Umhlatazana River,
where they prepared themselves with prayer and oblations for
this supreme test of the Brahmanic faith. As in the case of die
Thai Poosam ceremony, their mouths were bound to induce
concentration of thought, and they took no notice of the
chatting throng which milled continually round them.

‘Nine men and one woman participated, all of whom
were elderly. The woman was aged 60 and had snow-white
hair. She had previously undergone the fire test on 10 occa-
1For Mar. 5, 1928.

358 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

sions and was regarded with reverence by the devotees of her
religion.

‘As the morning wore on the crowd swarming about the
grounds of die temple became denser, and a ring io rows deep
formed round the fire pit, which had been roped off.

‘Indian women in their brighdy-coloured sauris continually
made gifts to the effigies of the three Brahmanic divinities,
Brahma, Vishnu and Siva, and gradually the throng became
worked up to a high pitch of religious fervour. At two o’clock
Major Webb Richards (Commandant of Police in the Durban
district) arrived. He was garlanded by the priest with mangolds
and chrysanthemums and formally welcomed.

‘In reply. Major Richards stated his pleasure at being present.
On the eve of his departure on transfer from Durban, he
thanked the Indian community for being so well-behaved
during his term of office here.

‘The three medical men, Dr. Smith, Dr. H. R. Goldberg and
Dr. M. Witkin, who were present by invitation, were also gar-
landed. Hundreds of Europeans were present by this time,
and in many cases they incurred the wrath of the Indians by
pushing their way through the throng and entering the en-
closure.

*Thc representative of the Natal Advertiser and the photo-
grapher were asked to remove their shoes in the enclosure, and
this they did. The close atmosphere became almost unbearable,
for die fire had by this time become a heap of glowing embers,
fumed occasionally by a slight breeze which filled the air with
ashes. The sun blazed down directly on the close-packed throng,
and to heighten the disco mforture of the Europeans, tom-toms
thundered close by without cessation.

‘At 2.30 o’clock the weird sound of Indian reed pipes being
played on the main South Coast road heralded the approach of
die soutris. The fire was spread out with long rakes to an even
thickness and a pool of water and milk was in readiness at one

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 359

end of the fire for the fire-walkers to cool their feet after

‘The soutris arrived and walked round the pit. They were
mostly in a state bordering on collapse, and all but die woman
were skewered over their backs and arms with silver hooks, to
which weights were attached. Several of them were supported
by friends who walked beside them.

‘Having circled the pit die soutris passed across the fire, their
feet sinking in sickening fashion into the white charcoaL One by
one they walked across, their faces showing no sign of pain, but
their eyes were glassy as though they were in an hypnotic trance.

‘One or two of them circled the pit again and crossed die fire
a second time. Finally they were taken to the verandah of the
temple, where the pins and hooks were removed from their
flesh. Here Dr. Goldberg and Dr. Witkin examined their feet
and found them free from blisters or marks. The medical men
were unable to offer any explanation of the phenomena.

*Thc skin of the soutris which had been punctured m a thou-
sand places did not bleed even when the hooks were withdrawn,
and after a few minutes even the slight scars disappeared.

‘The fire-walkers were also examined by Major Richards,
who professed his astonishment at their normal condition after
the ordeal. Throughout the ceremony the Hindu priest was
eager to show the Pressman every stage of it, with the evident
object of proving that there was no trickery. The feet of the
fire-walkers were not prepared m any way for their ordeal, and
no salve or ointment was applied from the time they emerged
from the fire until the time that their feet were examined by the
medical men.’

My second account1 of fire-walking is a graphic story of the
rite as seen at Durban. The technique differs from the Umbilo
ceremony in many respects:

1See The National Geographic Magazine, Washington, D.C., for April
193 !• VoL LIX, No. 4, p. 4$a (one illustration).

3<So How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

‘But the most curious of Durban’s sights is that of the Indian
fire-walking. Imagine a roped-off space where men rake level
the embers of a great log fire. Half-suffocated masses of vividly
draped East Indians, keyed to religious tension. Jostling throngs
of unreverential Europeans in circus mood. Standards hung
with palm fronds, and a little shoulder-borne shrine with idols
of Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva. And presently the foliage of
near-by trees scorches and dies, while attendants dash water in
the faces of fainting women and children.

‘What are these entering ten, lunatics or epileptics? They arc
naked to the waist; they arc skewered through the flesh as
meats are skewered; their heads loll, their tongues slaver, their
eyes protrude. These, the soutris, or fire-walkers, have fasted
week-long and have just been sprinkled with water from holy
Ganges.

‘Tom-toms beat, cymbals clash. The gaudy shrine has been
set at the farther end of the fire bed, whose gray ash glows
furnace-like under the least wind puff. And now— you gasp —
one of the soutris runs staggeringly across the fire to the altar of

‘Another passes over, a woman, chanting; and now a third, a
boy of eight years. Then come two who, colliding midway,
fall prone on the fire bed, then arise and stagger onward to the
shrine. And now all have passed over, and tom-toms and
cymbals vibrate anew through the awed hush of India’s massed
ranks.

‘What of the physical phenomenon? Indisputably the foot
soles of two of the soutris, as they lay m collapse after the cere-
mony, showed ash dust, but no bums. And what of the mental
phenomenon? Indian mystics will tell you that by self-inflicted
tortures the soul reaches through flesh-numbing ecstasy towards
those higher states of being that lie between it and the Ab-
solute.’

My third illustration of Treemiri (fire-walking) comes from

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 361

Singapore, and is 60m an account by L. Elizabeth Lewis.1
Again, the performers are Hindus:

‘The devotees, including quite a number of women, approxi-
mated 400. Some were kneeling and touching the earth with
their foreheads, while others, more devout, were literally
groveling in the dirt. A few were endeavouring to crawl or roll
completely around the temple, a task which would have been
difficult if the path had been clear and covered with velvety
moss instead of being rough, crowded, and thick with dust.
One elderly man seemed at the end of his strength when he had
completed his self-appointed penance, although two friends
had accompanied him and lifted him over drains and other
hindrances.

‘Many of those who had made a vow to undergo torture had
prepared their bodies the preceding month by some form of
penance, and had refrained from eating for a day before the
event.

4 While these zealots were proceeding with their tasks, a bed of
coals was being prepared. Great piles of wood were burned to
embers; then the ashes were raked into a neat bed about 24 feet
long. It seemed hours to us before it reached this stage, as the
atmosphere was rendered almost unbearable by the intense
heat.

4 At the end of the mass ofhve coals was dug a pool which was
filled with nulk brought to the spot in earthenware jars. The
images of the gods were then brought from the temple and
placed near this pool of milk.

‘When all seemed m readiness, we heard the sound of drums
and a stir of excitement swept over the crowds. This we were
told signified the return of devotees from the Serangoon Road
Temple, whither they had gone to complete final preparations.

14The Fire-Walking Hindus of Singapore’, by L. Elizabeth Lewis, in The
National Geographic Magazine, Washington, D.C., Vol. LIX, No. 4, April
193 1, pp. $13-02 (12 illustrations).

362 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

The next instant two men appeared with a goat, one holding
the frightened creature’s head and the other a hind leg. Another
man raised a scythehke knife and in an instant die head was
severed from the body.

’A fourth participant snatched the quivering, bleeding body
and ran around the bed of coals, then disappeared in the throng.

‘By this time I was feeling desperately ill, but with no possible
chance for escape, for the crowds were now in a frenzied state,
and it would have been unsafe to leave our refuge. The staring
eyes of the devotees seemed glued upon the idols at the other
end of the path of glowing embers.

‘Finally, the priests who held back the devotees began to lash
them with whips, and one by one they made a dash, barefooted,
across the red-hot coals into the pool of milk.

‘Each participant wore a short covering of cheesecloth
stained yellow by saffron water, and each earned m his hands,
clenched above his head, a twig of green from a tree supposed
to possess curanve properties. The wrists were ned together
with yellow amulets. If the person was pure, the amulet would
remam unbroken. I did not see any break.

‘The priests would sometimes strike a devotee several times,
and then give the wrists a stinging blow before releasing him.
Not one flinched, nor did any appear to have felt the cut of the
whip. Some ran and some walked slowly through the coals.

“The women seemed much calmer than the men. Some of
them earned babies in their arms. One woman with a child fell
when she had covered almost half the distance. The child was
snatched from the embers, but the mother was rolled over
several times before she was removed from the hot bed.
Whether or not she was burned I could not tell, but she seemed
on the point of exhaustion.

‘A legend seems to be at the base of the origin of this cere-
mony. The Pandus — five brothers who reigned in former
Hastinapura, 60 miles from modem Delhi, had one queen,

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 363

Draupadi, the deity invoked at this festival. These five kings
had some cousins who envied their position. Duryodhana,
their leader, conceived a plan whereby he could obtain the
coveted kingdom. He invited the Pandus to a gambling party
at his palace and through trickery won their kingdom.

‘Duryodhana then sent for the queen and endeavoured to
disrobe her in pubhc. A higher power protected her chastity by
making her garments unending. Through sheer exhaustion,
Duryodhana finally gave up his attempt to disrobe Draupadi,
who then untied his turban and vowed that she would not re-
twine it until her enemies had been destroyed, and then she
would bathe in fire as a proof of her chastity.

‘A war followed, and when the Pandus were the victors
Draupadi performed her vow. So to-day she is worshipped as
one of the seven goddesses of chastity, and even the mention
of her name is enough to “wipe away all sins”.

‘Walking through fire has become a custom for the curing
of bodily ills or the overcoming of other calamines.’

As fire-walking comes well within the domain of psychical
research, the University of London Council for Psychical
Invesnganon decided they would make an attempt to elucidate
the mystery, and to that end I inserted an advertisement m the
personal column of The Times 1 inviting amateur and profes-
sional firc-resisters to come forward and perform the feat. We
had hundreds of letters from those who had seen the fire-walk,
and from those who wanted to see it, but not a single reply
from anyone who was prepared to do it.

I had given up hope of finding a person m this country will-
ing to demonstrate fire-walking, when Kuda Bux arrived in
London in order to show us his alleged ‘eyeless sight’. The
reader has already read the account of these experiments. Quite
casually Kuda Bux remarked to Mr. R. S. Lambert that he had
frequently performed Treemiri in India, and produced his Press-
'ForOa 23, 1934.

364 How I Brought the Fire- Walk to England
cutting book to prove that his statement was correct. He was
then about to leave for the Continent, but he agreed to
remain in London a few weeks longer in order that I could
stage an experimental fire-walk, under scientific conditions.

The next question was how to test Kuda Bux. Of course, it
was difficult to determine his mental state at the tune of
'walking', but certain physical tests could be applied. A number
of scientists were appealed to, but it was generally agreed that
no one in this country knew anything about fire-walking. We
received several suggestions. Professor Frank L. Hopwood,
D.Sc., the physicist at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital Medical
College (University of London), was very helpful. He sug-
gested X-raying the man’s feet. If they were ‘doctored’ by
impregnation with any metallic salt or element heavier than
sodium, the skiagram would show it. But it would not reveal
organic compounds unless they contained iodine or the like.
Another proposal was that we should take the temperature of
the soles of the feet immediately before and after die trial. A
third suggestion was that a cold mirror should be held near the
soles of the feet to see whether any semi-volatile liquid covered
them, thus producing the ‘spheroidal state’ which might act as a
heat insulating layer. Another physicist said the ‘cotton test’
might prove valuable. It is well known that flesh scorches at a
lower temperature than cotton; conscquendy, if the fire should
bum the cotton, it ought to bum Kuda Bux’s feet as well.
Another obvious test was to measure the surface heat of the
fiery trench by means of a thermocouple; and, if it was thought
that the ash acted as an insulator between fire and feet, then the
thermal conductivity of the ash must be ascertained.

It was obvious that, as we knew so little about staging a fire-
walk, a rehearsal was a vital necessity. My friend, Mr. Alex. L.
Drib bell, of The Halt, Woodmans teme Road, Carshalton,
placed his house and grounds at my disposal, and I selected a site
which was not only perfect for the experiments, but was also a

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 365

natural stage set in beautiful surroundings. The first test was
held on Monday, September 9, 193 5.1

Two tons of oak logs, one ton of firewood, half a load of oak
charcoal, ten gallons of paraffin, twenty-five copies of The
Times — and a box of matches. This was the incendiary material
used in the first fire-walk ever seen m Great Britain. Kuda Bux
(‘Professor K. B. Duke’), the Kashmiri magician, walked bare-
footed over more than three tons of wood reduced to red-hot
embers which had been burning and smouldering for several
hours. The test attracted a distinguished company of scientists,
and important data were secured concerning the technique of
fire-walking.

One thing I discovered was that staging a fire-walk takes a
good deal of organising, much hard work, and many hours’
preparation. Though the walk did not take place until nearly
three o’clock in die afternoon, most of the day, and all the
previous evening were spent on making things ready.

The trench itself took one man six hours to dig. It was
twenty-five feet long, three feet wide, and twelve inches deep.
It was my original intention that our trench should be thirty
yards long, ten feet wide, and twelve inches deep. Even to have
half-filled this great trough with burning embers would have
taken nearly fifty tons of wood! Fortunately, I consulted
several works which gave accounts of fire-walks, both in India
and elsewhere, and found that the trench we finally dug was
about the average size.

By the merest chance we decided to lay the fire overnight. It
took four people two and a half hours to do this. And they
worked hard. First of all, sheets of back issues of The Times were
rolled into balls and these formed the bottom layer in the
trench. Then a ton of firewood (packing-cases, broken up),
staves or sticks, were interlaced criss-cross along the whole of

1See ‘Walking Through Fire’, by Harry Pnce, m The Listener, London,
for Sept. 18, i93s, Vol XIV, No. 349, pp. 470-3 (la illustration*).

366 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

the trench. Over the firewood were placed about three hundred
oak logs built ridge fashion, with the apex of the ridge running
parallel with the trench. A couple of tarpaulins were placed
over the whole as a protection from possible ram.

As no native of this country has had any experience in mak-
ing fire trenches, we were in a quandary as to when to light the
fire. How long would three tons of wood take to bum mto
red-hot embers? Kuda Bux himself was rather uncertain, as he
had had no experience in burning seasoned oak logs. The wood
they bum in India for ceremonial fire-walks is of a certain kind;
it is very hard and slow-burning. However, I judged that
between three and four hours were necessary to reduce the
wood, so at eleven o’clock on the morning of the test the
officials assembled to ignite the mass.

We found that it was not at all an easy matter to light a huge
bonfire buned m a trench. After two or three funic attempts
with matches, we decided that we needed the paraffin which we
had provided for such an emergency. By means of an enamel
garage jug we soused the logs with paraffin, using one gallon
for every two and a half feet. At 1 1.20 I ceremoniously applied
a match at one end, and in five minutes the trench was a blazing
inferno of flames and oily smoke which almost choked the
bystanders. We had lighted the great fire.

The flames soon died down; the smoke cleared away, and the
merry crackling of the stratum of firewood told us that all was
well. We piled on the remainder of the logs. Fortunately our
combustible material was dry, and in thirty minutes the logs
themselves were well alight, and it was impossible to stand
closer to the trench than three feet. At 12.10, one could not ap-
proach within six feet of the fire without feeling uncomfortably
hot.

By the time the fire had been burning an hour, the logs had
settled down, owing to the pine firewood having been reduced
to ashes. The oak logs were converted into red embers covered

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 367

with a pure white ash, and were slowly burning through. At
12.45 Kuda Bux removed his shoes and socks in order to ‘test
the fire’. He planted one bare foot in the middle of the embers
and stepped across the trench. He said it was all right, but that
there was too much unbumt wood, and not enough fire. Im-
mediately before Kuda Bux stepped mto the trench, I threw on
the fire a piece of writing paper: it took exactly three seconds to
ignite. At 12.55 the Kashmiri again stepped into the trench with
his bare foot and pronounced it ‘fine’. He then said it was time
to put on the top layer of forest-burnt charcoal, which we did.
The charcoal was the purest we could find, and, to test its qual-
ity, Kuda Bux ate a piece and said it was ‘good’.

The fire was now a mass of red-hot glowing logs, and one
could not stand near it for more than a few seconds at a time.
Wc had a staff of helpers, raking and smoothing out the
embers, and they had to use wooden shields to protea their
faces from the intense heat. At one o’clock, a piece of white
paper dropped mto the trench burst mto flames upon contact. I
tried to take a close-up of the trench with my cinematograph
camera, but found I could not get near enough, owing to the
heat. As the fire was now becoming perfect for the test, we
deaded to leave it and have some lunch.

If we discovered nothing else during our test, we learnt that
fire-walkers eat. We all had a square meal, and although Kuda
Bux’s religion precluded his taking any animal food, he con-
sumed a light lunch. There was no question of his having to
fast m order to walk on red-hot embers: ‘That is a fallacy’, he
said.

We arrived back at Carshalton at 2.30, and found that our
fire was a glowmg mass of red and black embers. We also dis-
covered with some astonishment that our three tons of wood
had been reduced to such an extent that the layer of fire was
only about three inches. This rather upset Kuda Bux, who
likes at least nine inches of embers in which to bury his feet. He

368 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

could give no dear reason for this, but said it was much more
difficult to walk on a thin layer of fire. It appears to be part of
the technique of fire-walking, and is a very important point for
future research. Curiously enough, unless the bottom of the
trench is completely covered with live embers, Kuda Bux can-
not walk on it: it just bums him, though an observer would
imagine that the bare base of the trench was not nearly so hot as
the glowing embers. In order to make the layer of fire thicker,
we raked the embers from one end, piling them on to the centre
of the trench, which was now shortened to about twenty feet.

At 245, we were ready for the test. A number of scientists
and others had arrived and the company mcluded Mr. R. S.
Lambert, the Editor of The Listener ; Mr. Digby Moynagh, the
Editor of St. Batholomew’s Hospital Journal; two physicists; Dr.
William Collier, an Oxford physician; Professor J. A. Gunn,
the pharmacologist; Mr. and Mrs. Alex L. Dribbell, and others.
Kuda Bux said he was ready to demonstrate, and donned a long
black cotton frock coat for the performance. I examined this
(and his trousers) for concealed chemicals or other preparation.

Before the test commenced, it was necessary that Kuda Bux
should be medically examined. A most important part of this
examination was the inspection of his feet. Dr. Collier took
several ‘swabs’, and pronounced his feet normal. The ‘swabs’
were subsequently handed to a pathologist, who reported that
he could find nothing definite m the reactions, either inorganic
or organic. In other words, the results were negative. I thought
that die soles of Kuda Bux’s feet were particularly soft. Of
course, he always wears shoes, so there is no question of the skin
having become hardened through his walking barefoot for long
periods. His right foot was washed, and it is quite certain that
no preparation or chemical was used to render him immune
from burns. Hu feet were photographed before and after the
demonstration, and other scientific tests and photographs were
made and valuable data acquired.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 369

Before Kuda Bux stepped into the trench, he carefully
brushed away the ash from the embers. Sometimes he uses a fan
for this purpose. Whatever else we discovered on this historic
afternoon, we proved quite definitely that the ash plays no part
in forming an insulating layer between the feet and the fire.
Kuda Bux will not walk on ash: he prefers the red embers.

Kuda Bux stepped into the trench four times with a maxi-
mum of four steps during the first ‘walk’. He did not run, but
walked steadily. Unfortunately, the fire was not quite to his
liking, as it was too shallow. In places, the fire had burnt down
to the ground, and this worried him. ‘I must have thick fire to
walk on’, he reiterated. But he did his best, and it was our fault
that we did not have a fire that he could wade through. After
the last trial, I threw in several pieces of paper, and they burnt
on contact with the embers. Also, the trench was so hot that
one could not go near it in comfort. (Twenty-four hours later
the embers were just cool enough to lay the hand upon.) After
the fourth trial Kuda Bux decided that he would not ‘walk’
again, as the fire was not thick enough. After the final walk his
feet were examined and photographed: they were not affected
m any way, and there was not a suspicion of a blister.

After Kuda Bux had demonstrated that fire-walking is a
possibility, we applied the ‘cotton test’ to the fire. We procured
a wooden shoe last (attached to a rod), and covered it with
calico. Imitating a person walking, we placed the wooden ‘foot’
to the embers over which Kuda Bux had just walked. In one
second the calico was scorched; in two and a half seconds the
cotton fabric was burnt through in several places. There was no
question of the fire not being hot! The temperature of the heat
above the fire was also taken.

After the cotton test, Mr. Digby Moynagh removed his shoes
and socks and momentarily placed one bare foot against the
embers. He said it was ‘hot’ and half an hour later his foot still
tingled. Not satisfied with this test, he suggested to the medical

370 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

men present that he should walk in the trench. After some con-
sultation, they advised him not to. Kuda Bux also warned him
against making the attempt. Mr. Moynagh asked me what he
should do. Although naturally I was averse to his burning him-
self, as Mr. Moynagh was anxious to make the experiment, I
consented. It was necessary in the interests of science that some-
one should do the identical walk at the same time as Kuda Bux,
with the same fire and under identical conditions. I will take
this opportunity of thanking Mr. Moynagh for his courageous
and public-spirited action.

Mr. Moynagh again removed his shoes and socks and, after a
moment’s hesitation, stepped boldly into the fire, and walked
two paces before jumping out. He was m the trench about two
seconds. He said that it was hot, and that his feet tingled. For
some tune he felt nothing further, but m thirty minutes blisters
had formed on the soles of his feet and he had to receive atten-
tion at the hands of the trained nurse who was m readiness m
case of accidents. He was somewhat badly burned, and felt the
effects of his fire-walking adventure for some tunc afterwards.
I examined the soles of his feet, and the epidermis seemed fairly
thick and hard. I am sure that my own feet would have been
still more badly burned. Mr. Moynagh’s performance con-
cluded the afternoon’s programme (it was nearly five o’clock),
except that Kuda Bux gave us a demonstration of his so-called
‘eyeless sight’ faculty, which impressed every person who wit-
nessed it. I have already described his performance m die chap-
ter The Man with the X-ray Eyes’.

It now only remains for me to say what we thought of the
experiment. Undoubtedly, Kuda Bux walked on the fire, and
it is equally true that he was not burnt. If we did not completely
solve the riddle of fire-walking, at least wc narrowed the in-
quiry. We proved that the feat is not dependent upon there
being ash on the fire: on the contrary, considerable pains were
taken to get rid of die ash, which is not utilised as an insulator

Kuda Bux’s feet, quite uninjured. after fire-walk

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 371

between fire and feet. We proved that — in the case of Kuda
Bux — fasting is not necessary, and that he does not have to
work himself up into an exalted or ecstatic condition: he ap-
peared so unconcerned that he might have been walking across
the room. We could detect no trickery in the Kashmiri’s per-
formance, which appeared perfectly straightforward, and no
preparation of the feet was thought possible, under the con-
ditions.

So we asked ourselves what was the secret of the fire-walk.
Three alternatives were left to us: (a) that it is done by ‘faith’;
( b ) that the callosity of the skin is responsible for the absence of
burning or pain, during the momentary contact of the feet with
the embers, though this cannot apply to Kuda Bux as his feet are
soft; (c) that a knack in placing the feet is the cause of Kuda
Bux’s immunity from bums. Or perhaps, in the case of some
fire-walkers, there is a way in arranging the fire in such a man-
ner that — with courage — one can walk through the embers
without being burnt. Kuda Bux was unhappy about the fire we
prepared for him, and it must be admitted that he did not stay
in the trench very long. But we are grateful to him for the
demonstration, which will become histone. We decided that
for the next test we would bum much more wood, and allow
Kuda Bux to inspect the trench before being filled.

We did not prove that Kuda Bux can transfer his immunity
from bums to other persons. He claims to do this, and I hoped
that at the next test he would demonstrate that it can be done.
In the traditional Indian fire-walk, as the reader has seen, it is a
common sight to see a troupe of devotees following their
leader or priest through the trench: they emerge unscathed.

We acquired some valuable knowledge resulting from our
first experiment. The thermal conductivity of the ash was
ascertained, and as this was a laboratory job, it could not be
done in situ. There was no evidence that the ash played any
part in the performance. But the wood and charcoal have to be

372 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England
of a certain quality, and this may have some bearing on Kuda
Bux’s ability to perform the ‘walk’. He informed me that the
only thing that will bum him is cow dung. One piece in a fire
would, he said, make it impossible for him to do the walk. The
reason is that it is ‘unclean’ to a fire-walker. As a matter of fact,
it is alleged that any foreign matter in the fire upsets the
performance.

The second test was held on Tuesday, September 17, 1935,
on die same site at Carshalton. It will be remembered that
Kuda Bux was not happy concerning the lack of fire wc pro-
vided for him at the first ‘walk’, although more than three tons
of material were burnt; also, the trench was too narrow (three
feet). At our second test we burnt seven tons of oak logs, one
ton of firewood, half a ton of oak charcoal, ten gallons of
paraffin, and fifty newspapers. The trench was widened to six
feet, and the depth reduced to nine inches. On the afternoon
previous to the test, Kuda Bux inspected the trench and stated
that he wanted a ‘platform’ of earth in the centre. This he con-
structed himself, and divided the trench mto two poruons or
pits, with a mound of earth thirty-six inches wide dividing
diem in the centre. The length (twenty-five feet) was not
altered. So now we had what were really two trenches, placed
end to end, each being eleven feet long, six feet wide, and nine
inches deep. I think the real reason for this division in the
trench was because Kuda Bux wanted to shorten it; and jump-
ing on to a platform at one end of a short pit was more dignified
than stepping off half-way across a long one.

It took one man the best part of a working day to fill the
trenches. All the newspapers and firewood, and half of the logs,
were piled into two pyramids and covered with tarpaulins for
the night. It was our intention to light the fires at five o’clock
on the morning of the test. But a fierce gale made this impos-
sible, and it was 8.20 a.m. before die mass was ignited. It was a
magnificent sight to see the darning paraffin as the wind swept

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 373

it through the piles of logs and packing-cases. By 845 both
trenches were well alight.

We spent the morning in feeding the fires with the remaining
three and a half tons of logs, and by one o’clock the trenches
were a mass of red embers, radiating a terrific heat. The wind
shifted every few seconds, and with each gust showers of
sparks and ash nearly smothered the helpers, who were blinded
by the heat-laden wind which made stoking almost impossible.
The wearing of goggles relieved us somewhat, but I had a rain-
coat scorched through merely throwing on a log. The heat
could be distinctly felt at a distance of sixty-five feet, on the
leeward side of the trenches.

After lunch the red embers just filled the trenches flush with
the ground. It was still blowing half a gale, and as the wind
swept across the fires they were fanned almost to white-heat.
It reminded me of a mighty blacksmith’s forge at full blast.
With each gust all the ash was blown from the surface of the
fires.

At 2.30 Kuda Bux had a look at the fires, said they were satis-
factory, and instructed us to tip on the load of forest-burnt
charcoal. This was m sacks which we divided between the two
trenches. As each sack was tipped on to the trench a man raked
the charcoal evenly over the surface. It will give the reader
some idea of the heat of the trenches when I remark that every
minute or so the handle of the rake caught fire and had to be
extinguished! It can be imagined how the one hundred and
thirty-two square feet of surface area of the fire affected the
spectators, among whom were: Professor J. C. Flugel, Mr.
C. E. M. Joad, Mr. C. A. Mace, Professor C. A. Pannett, Mr.
S. G. Soal, the Rev. Professor E. S. Waterhouse, and the
present writer (all members of the University of London
Council for Psychical Investigation). Others present included
Mrs. Flugel, Mrs. Mace, Mr. and Mrs. A. L. Dribbell, Mr.
R. S. Lambert, Professor Millais Culpin, Dr. J. Edgley Cumock,

374 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

Dr. R. £. Gibbs, Dr. A. S. Russell, Dr. £. H. Hunt, Dr. T. £.
Banks, etc.

Having put on the top dressing of charcoal, the surface of the
fires was transformed from a rich cherry colour to a dull black,
and we waited patiently for the lumps of charcoal to redden.
This took less than half an hour owing to the high wind in-
creasing the surface combustion. By three o'clock the charcoal
was red hot.

Kuda Bux said he was now ready for the preliminary exami-
nation. The medical member of our council, Professor C. A.
Pannctt, Director of the Surgical Unit, St. Mary’s Hospital
(and Professor of Surgery, University of London), examined
the Kashmiri. He stated that the soles of his feet presented no
unusual features. The skin was not callous, but soft. The feet
felt cold to the hand, and a skin thermometer applied to the
soles registered 93-2° Fahrenheit. He said the skin was very dry.
The feet were then washed and well dried. A five-eighths inch
square of zinc oxide plaster was attached to the sole of the right
foot. After a few minutes Kuda Bux said he was ready for the
test.1

At 3.14 Kuda Bux made the first walk, doing four strides
(each foot on the embers twice). From the moment the first
foot was removed from the bank until the last foot left the
trench was 4*5 seconds, official timing. Kuda Bux walked
steadily, and jumped on to the platform between the two fires.
He returned to the base where, within ten seconds. Professor
Pannctt again took the temperature of the soles of his feet: it
was now 930 Fahrenheit — which, of course, was actually lower
than before the walk. The piece of plaster was quite untouched,
except that some loose fluff at the cut edges looked very slightly
scorched. The man's feet were neither blistered nor injured.

lFor Professor Pannctt'* full report, »ee Nature, Vol 1 j6, No. 3438, Sept,
ai, I93S- Also The Lancet for Sept 28, 1933; and ‘Fire-Walking Experi-
ments’, by Harry Price, in The British Medical Journal for Sept. 28, 1933.

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 375

At 3.17 Kuda Bux once more stepped on to the same pit, and
again did four strides (each foot on the embers twice), taking
4*3 seconds. He would not walk across the second (farther) pit
as he said there was ‘something wrong with it’. Of course, this
disinclination to walk the second pit was psychological, as both
pits were identical m every way. His feet were again examined
and found to be uninjured. Forty-eight minutes later Professor
Pannett again examined his feet, and no injury was apparent.

After the second walk, the physicists took the temperatures of
both the surface and the main body of the fire. The tempera-
ture-measuring device was an electric thermometer consisting
of a thermal junction connected to a temperature indicator.
The junction consisted of a thin disc of copper, to which wires
of copper and eureka were fastened. The wires were passed
through holes in a piece of uralite and pulled, in order to bnng
the disc into contact with the uralite, so that when the disc was
pressed on the fire the conditions were favourable for the
absorption of heat and its retention when the junction was
raised for another impact. It was found that the mam body of
the fire was 1400° Centigrade (25S20 Fahrenheit), which is
exactly the temperature of white heat (steel melts at 13710
Centigrade). The surface of the fire was 430° Centigrade
(8o6° Fahrenheit), the temperature between that at which coal
ignites and dull red heat. The thermal data were supplied to
me by Dr. R. E. Gibbs.

Kuda Bux then prepared to walk the trench a third time; he
stood on the edge, then asked for five minutes’ grace, and fin-
ally came to me and said he could not do it again. The instru-
ments and the tests had unnerved him. ‘Something inside me
has broken’, he told me. ‘You are not angry with me, are
you?’ I tried to comfort him by saying that he had put up an
excellent show, and had done his best. ‘I have lost my faith, and
if I do it again, I shall bum myself,’ he said.

After the Kashmiri had finished his performance, Mr. Digby

3 76 How I Brought the Fire- Walk to England

Moynagh (who, it will be remembered, entered the trench at
die previous experiment on September 9, 1933) said he would
again attempt the walk. He removed his shoes and socks,
walked into die pit, and did two steps (i.e. each foot on the
embers once: 2-2 seconds). As his feet were covered with heal-
ing blisters which he acquired on his last fire-walk, it was diffi-
cult to tell what fresh blisters he had acquired, but he could
not walk die length of the trench. It was noticed that his feet
were moister than those of Kuda Bux. It was exceedingly
plucky of him to try the experiment a second time. After Mr.
Moynagh’s performance, Mr. Maurice Cheepen stepped into
the trench and gave two quick, short steps (i.«. each foot on the
embers once: 2-1 seconds) before reaching the bank. Actually,
he crossed the comer of die trench. His feet were badly blis-
tered, and I saw bleeding at three points. These wounds might
have been caused by the burnt skin rubbing off the soles of his
feet as he hurried out of the trench. It was a plucky attempt.
We had a trained nurse available m case of accidents, so the
‘wounded’ received every assistance. As there were no other
volunteers forthcoming, we adjourned for the tea interval.
After tea Kuda Bux gave another ‘eyeless sight’ demons tranon
which was very successful

One of those present at the fire-walk was Dr. E. H. Hunt, a
medical man who had seen ceremonial fire-walking in Southern
India (where he resided for many years), and he told the repre-
sentative of The Times1 that the test was made under unusually
severe conditions which would have deterred most fire-
walkers. He said: ‘The trench is shallower than is customary
and with the high wind increasing the surface combustion and
blowing away all the ash the heat is far more intense and is

transmitted without any insulation. The test was too severe ’

All the more credit, then, to Kuda Bux for demonstrating his

‘See The Times, London, Sept 18, 1935 (No. 47,172), for an account of
the (ecood experiment (3 illustrations).

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 377

ability to ‘walk’ over such an intensely hot trench. His sudden
breakdown after the second walk seems to indicate that, after
all, ‘faith’ (or confidence) plays some part in the performance.
I dunk that may be the secret of die fire-walk. After that faith
had ‘broken’ within him, nothing would induce him to do the
walk He was not in a fit mental condition. We proved that
the immunity from bums is not due to the callosity of die skin,
as Kuda Bux has soft skin, which is not callous. We exploded
the theory that ash acts as an insulator between fret and fire, as
the wind and our rakes removed it all We have proved that it
is a fallacy that ‘anyone can do it’. There was no proof that the
feet were prepared in any way, and we were successful m pro-
viding an even hotter fire than is usual in India — rhanlrc partly
to the high wind. Speaking of the m tense heat, at ten o’clock
on the evening of the test the trenches looked like two huge
cauldrons of red-hot molten metal, reminiscent of what I have
seen at smelting works. Although the night was quite dark, one
could easily read a copy of a newspaper by the glow of the red-
hot embers. By noon next day the fire was still too hot for one
to place one’s hand upon.

The reader is now able to compare the cool and dignified
performance of Kuda Bux with the hysterical ‘ballyhoo’ of
native fire-walks. Considering that the Kashmiri walked on a
fire much hotter than anything seen in India, the greatest credit
is due to him. We have not completely solved the mystery of
fire- walking, but we are very near to a solution. I think the
secret of immunity from bums lies in the fact that, in the case of
Kuda Bux, there is some obscure relationship between physical
and mental forces, and this helps to make him immune from
injury. I think he also works himself up into a kind of semi-
hypnonc state. Apparendy, that state is easily disturbed, witness
how he broke down after the second attempt at our experiment
on September 17, 1935. The scientists upset him. He told Pro-
fessor Pannett that the physicist who placed the thermocouple

380 How I Brought the Fire-Walk to England

who insist upon knowing how much things cost that we ex-
pended about ^50 on our two experiments. This sum includes
fees, material (die wood alone cost £25), labour, photography,
films, etc. We secured a magnificent photographic and cinema-
tographic record of the ceremony, which is destined to become
historical.1 But I must admit that it was a somewhat expensive
bonfire!*

*Mr. Gresham Reynolds, in The Times of Sept. 24, 193 J, points out the
extreme antiquity of fire- walking and quotes Virgil (AeneidXI, 787, 788):
‘Et medium fferi pietate per ignem
C ul tores multa premiums vestigia prana.*

These hues are taken from A mini’s prayer to Apollo for permission to wipe
out the disgrace that has been inflicted on tbc Trojans in Iuly by Camilla, the
Queen of the Volsa. Frets metate suggests that, even among the ancients,
fire-walking was considered a trial offcuth; cuhores denotes that it was prac-
tised under the cult of Apollo.

•For the official record, see: 'A Report on Two Experimental Fire-
Walks’, by Harry Price, Bulletin II of the University of London Council for
Psychical Investigation, London, 1936 (20 illustrations and a Bibliography).

INDEX

Index

Aachen, 74 Apollo, 3 80 it1

Abbaye, Rue de 1’, Pans, 78 Apports, meaning of, 142, 1 59-60

Aberystwyth, 348 Arabian Nights, 89

Abrams, Albert, 237-52 Arabian rope trick, 351-4

Abu Nasser (magician), 351^4 Arc deTnomphe, Pans, 333

Account (An) of Some Further Expert- Amaoudoff, M. D , 355 n1

ments with Rush Schneider, 87 n1 Amins’s prayer to Apollo, 380 w1
Account of Some Further Experiments Artet Hypnose, V, 268 nl
with IV1II1 SchneiJer, 259 it1 Assebourg, Graf von, 52-4

Adam, Professor, 306 Astonishing ‘ Mini-Reading Feats of

Adams, Mrs. Mary, 348 the Three Svengahs, 256 n*. 266 «*

Adarc, Viscount, 149 n1 Athens, 82

Adelphi Theatre. 46-7 Atkinson, Mrs. Paul, 269

Adlerhalle, Interlaken, 297-3 > * Auckland, N Z„ 1 1 1-2 n1

Adventures in Many Lands, 257 Augustenstrasse, ghost of the, 47-9

Aenetd, 38011* Australian wild dog, 88

jEsop’s Fables, 89 Austrian Alpme Club, 293

Aga Khan, 345 Automatic Art of Heinrich Nusslein,

Air Ministry, 237 77 n*

Aix-la-Chapclle, 74 Automatism, meaning of, 141

Akhnur, Kashmir, 314 Ayrton, W E.. 195

Aldnch, A. S., 81-a

Alexis, 271,271 B , Rev George, 104-7

Ahmarchitc (Maman ruler), 1 19-22 Babylon, 351
Alpine ghost. 50-1 Bichar ach (Rhine), 335

American S.P.R., 82, 88 «*, 21 1, 333 Baden-bei-Wien, 51-2
Amersham Hall, Lewisham, 1 5 nl Ballenstedt, Harz, 52

Armens Medical School, 101 Barlow, Fred, 169, 16911s, 202 n1

Amsterdam. 73. 75 Barto (‘talking’ horse), 88

Amusemens Physiques, 253 «* Barton- Wright, E., 270 n1

Ancient ghost-hunang, 37-8 ‘Bathroom control’, 163, 207

Anderson, John Henry, 254 Bauer, Caft, Berlin, 65, 67

Angers (Touraine), 330 Baum, Vicki, 65

Animal Metapsychics, 88 n* Beatings Bells, 28 a1

Ansichten Qber die Anoeblich Neue Ent- Bear, Norwegian, regarded as
deckung von Oaognestichen Pho- human, 88
tographien, 168 # Beard, G.M., 255, 255 it*

Answers, 254 n1 Beauregard, Rue, Paris, 334

3«J

3»4

Index

Beckmann, johaan, 255, 355 ** |

Bed, haunted, at Falkenstem, 53-4;

at Chiswick, 75-6
Bedeutung von Goethes 1, 340
Bcenham, Mm Ethel, 279-85, 3I5>
348

BeUrSgezurGeschkhtedaEifindunger,

25J

Belgian police, 74
Belgian steamers, 75

BdlF.N.C.,157*1

BcU-nngmg, supernormal, 27-3 5
Bellini, Ernesto, 256, 356 *4
B^nivol, 256,256**

Bentley, Phyllis, 270 it1
Bergson, Hcnn, 312
Bench* iet Deutschen Chemischen
Cesellsduft, 1 89 it1
Berlin, 65-70, 189 II1, 259. 259 **.

306, 318-21. 351. 3Si it1
Berlin University, 306
Berliner Ilbutner* Zeitung, 351,
351 "*

Berliner Lokal-Anzciger, 66

Bern. 301

Bernese Oberland, 1 30
Bernhardt, Sarah, 102
Billet-tcadmg trick, 104-7
Bird,J. Malcolm, 88 it4, 202-3
Birmingham, 129
Bishop, Claude, 111-4
Bishop, Washington Irving, 270,
270**

Bismarck, Prince, 53
Blade Bear f thinking’ pony), 88,
88 n*

Blade Book (German), 335-7
Blackpool, 174

Blandy, Mrs. Lizzie Davenport, 271
Blick in die Txjen da Seek, Bn
(film), 297-300. 306-11
Blitz, Moische, 259
‘Bloksbcrg Tryst’ experiment, 334-
43

‘Bloc Room’, alleged haunted, 26-
3$

Bohn, Erich, 338
Bohn, FrL Urta, 338-9
Boirac, E., 312
Bond Street, London, 334
Bosch, Professor, 306
Boston (Mass.), 168, 176 h1, 255 n4,
271

Bourmell, Richard, 168
Boyle, Robert, 322
Brahmamc gods, 360
Brandon, Roy, 170 **

Brandt, Rolf, 306
Braunau-am-Inn, 227
Breslau, 338

Bnarcliff, U.S.A., 88, 88 it4
Bnarchff Pony, 7V, 88 »4
Brighton, 114.148
Bristol, 270 n*

Britannia Sccunda (Uncomura), 42
British Broadcasting Company, Ltd..
240

British Broadcasting Corporation,
97. 366. 348

British Institute of Adult Education,
348

British Medical Journal, The. 374 id
Broad, C. D.,11*1
Brocken experiment, 334-43
Brocken-Posl, 343
Brown Bros., Ltd., 239
Brown, Guy B., 278-85
Brown, J. W., 348
Browne, Sir Thomas, 322
Brunsdmcq, Leon, 312
Brussels, 74
Budapest, 73*4

Buguet, Edouard, 168, 168 «*, 197 id
Bukarest, 82

Bukartsche Festhrtuche, 355 rd
Bulletins of Nat. Lab. Psychical Re-
search, 87 id, 155 id, 227 H1.
333 nl>*, 234 id

Bulletins of the University of Lon-
don Council for Psychical In-
vestigation, 372, 272 ■>.■, 380 id
Burg Falkenstem, 52-4

38$

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

Burlington House, 229
Burrows, J. F., 266 ft*

Burt, Cynl, 262, 314
Burt, Mrs. Cynl, 314, 316
Bury Road case, 53-64
Bux, Kuda ( see Kuda Bux)

Cage, gauze, for medium, 152-3
Cairo, 211
Calais, 75

Calculating Boys, 271 ft4
Cambridge, 11 n1

Camilla, Queen of die Volsci, 380 n1
Canberra, Australu, 225
Candlestick phenomenon, 31
Capper, Alfred, Edward and Nellie,
256,256 n*

Capucincs, Boulevard des, Pans, 77
Carancuu (medium), 256 ft*
Canngton, W Whately, 241 n1
‘Carlo’, ‘spine’ guide, 112-3
Carmcncita, 269
Carshalton, Surrey, 364-80
Caruso, Ennco, 38
Cashel, Ireland, 329
Cenotaph ‘spines’, 169-70
Central Hotel, Berlin, 65, 319
Chambrc Arden tc, Paris, 334
Chance Bros. Be Co , Ltd., 129
Charge of Fraud . . . Against Mr. John
Myers, 170 it*

Charles 1, 7 6

Chateau Frontenac Hotel, Quebec,
220,224

Cheepen, Maurice, 376, 379
Chelmsford broadcasting station,
240-52

Cherub phenomenon, 59-60
Chicago, 104, 179 ft1
Chichester, Sussex, 324
‘Child, psychic’, 82-4
Chiswick, 75-6

Chronicles of Spirit Photography,
198 nl

‘Chung Ling Soo’, 163 nl, 200 rtl
Church bells afreet piano, 38

‘Cissie* (spirit), 179
CLurauenence, meaning of, 141
Clairvoyance, meaning of, 141
Clark, Doctor, 214-8
Cleverest Chili in (he World, The,
271ft4

Coach and horses, alleged supernor-
mal, 27-35

Cold Light on Spiritualistic ‘Pheno-
mena, 169 it*. 190 n1
Collier, William, 368
Collins, Warner, 205
Cologne, 65, 72; (Hauptbahnhof),
73

Coming of the Fairies, 175 n1
Compte Rendu Officiel du Troisibne
Congrh, 101 n*

Concise Oxford Dictionary, 346
Concordia Hutte, 50-1
Concordia-Platz, 50
Confederacy at Rudi Schneider’s
stances, 230-1

Conjurers and Indian Rope Trick,
344-54

Contact Mtnd-Readmg, 255 ft*
Controlling a medium, 1 50-8
Convincing Phenomena at Munich,
226 r?

Cook, Miss Flome, 161
Copenhagen, 138, 2x1
Coquelin, 1 02- 3
Cosmopolitan Magazine, 77 nl
Cotton test, 364, 369
Coud, Emile, 308
Counterblast to Spookland, 179 ft1
Cox, Thomas, 70
‘Crewe Curie’, 169
Cromwell, Oliver, 42, 76
Crookes, Sir William, 161, 161 n‘.»
Cryptomnesu, meaning of, 143
Cullender, Rose, 322
Culpin, Millais, 272, 373
Cumberland, Stuart, 255, 255 ft1,
263-4. 272

Cumock.J. Edgely.272, 373
Czechoslovakia, 1 38, 276

386

Index

Daemmerung, Gottlieb, 168 it1

.35.33.36

Express, 6l, 128 n1, 268 it*

Mail, 99, 33* k1
Nbws,268ii*

Sketch, 169, 170, 170 ft1
Telegraph, 238 n1, 268 11*

, Arthur Claud, 347
Dark, Sidney, 269 it*

Da uwet. Dr., 101

Davenport Brothers, 260, 270-1,
27m1

Davies, C. M.,269 n*

Day, J. F., 270-1

Deane, Mrs A. E., 169, 170, 170 n*
Delhi, 362
Delphi, 99

Dennis, Mm Gene, 259-66
Des Indes & la Plandte Mars, 1 18 n1
De Spectris, 37 n1
Dessoir, Max. 306
Devan t, David, 257 n1
Devonshire witchcraft, 332-3
Diamond traveller, case of, 71-4
Didier, Alexis, 271, 271 n*

Dingwall, E. j., 159 »*. 233, 254
278-83

Direct voice, meaning of. 142
Dissociation of personality, 143

Dodona, 99

Does a ‘Thinking Pony Reatty Thmk ?
88 it*

‘Dolores’, 111-4

Dolores and his Magic Slates, 112 n1
Dombies, 68

Dorotheenstrassc, Berlin, 68
Douglas, C. G., 235
Douglas, I.O.M., 92
Dover, 75

Doyle, Sir Arthur Conan, 77, 80,
169, 175 it1
Draco, 71

Draupodi (Indian queen), 363
Dresden, 63

Dnbbell, A. L., 260, 348, 364, 368,
373

Dnbbell, Mrs. A. L., 368, 373
Dnesch, Hans, 107
Duguid, David, 168, 168 it*.*, 169 it*
‘Duke, K. B.’ (Kudd Box). 14,
312-21, 355-6, 363-80
Duke University, N. Carolina, 314
Duncan, F Martin, 91, 96
Duncan, Mrs. Helen, 1 33, 153 it*
Dundee, 162
Duny, Amy, 322
Du Prtd, Carl, 269
Durville, Andrd, 256 it*

Duryodhana, 363

Eastern Harz, 32
Echinocactus Wilhamsu, 85 it1
Ectoplasm, meaning of, 143, 164
Eiffel Tower, 85

Eislcr, , 292

‘Elbcrfeld horses’, 88, 227
Electric Girl, The, 270 n1
Electronic Institute, 252
‘Electronic reactions’, 237-52
‘Emergent theory’, II, 11 it1
Enciclopedta Italiana, 253 it*
Encyclopaedia of Psychic Science,
168 n6, 169 it1, 197"*

Erto, Pasquale, 1 34, 1 54 it1, 249
£ tats Profonds de T Hypnose, Les, 269 n*

Eva C., 179

Evans, John, 223
Evening News, 56, 58-60
Evening Standard, 343
Evolution of Some Popular Conjuring
Tricks, 233 it1
Exorcism, service of, 35
Experiences de Genes avec le mddtum
Erto, 1 54 n1

Experiment with Mr. John Myers,
170 it4

Experimental Inquiries into Telekinesis,
149 "*

Exposi of die Electric Girl, 270 it1
Extcraaksaoon of heat, alleged, 77-
80

Extra-retinal vision, alleged, 312-21

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 387

Extra-sensory perception, meaning
of, 142

Eyeless Sight, 312 ft1

F., Miss Mollic, 212-8
Fact and Fable in Psychology, 176 w1
'Fakir of Oolu’, 271
Fakirwunder des geheimnisvollen Sells,
35i «'

Falconer brothers, 170, 170 h*
Falkcnstein Castle, 52-4
Falkcnstem, ‘White Lady’ of, 53-4
Fangoule, Louis, 312-3, 318
Faust. 333, 340
Fay, Annie Eva, 197 ns, 270
Fay, William M , 270
Fire-walk, the, 353-80
Fire-walking (countries where prac-
tised), 353

Fire-Walking Experiments, 374 ft1
Fire-Walking Hindus of Singapore,
361 ft1

Fitzkee. Dancl, 255 ti*

Fletcher, Peel, 278-85
Flournoy, Theodore, 117, 118,

118ft1, 128

‘Flower Medium’, 1 55-7
'Flower Medium's’ Career, 157 »i*
'Flower Medium’s’ Confession, 157 nl
‘Flower Medium’ Exposed, 1 37 ft1
‘Flower Medium’: More Facts, 1 37 ft*

Flugcl, J. C., 373
Flugcl, Mrs. I. C„ 373
Fodor, Nandor, 168 n*. 169 n1
Folk Lore Society, 331
Foltz, Karl, 234 n*

‘Footsteps’ phenomena, 28-9, 44-6
Forbes, John, 271, 271 ft*

Fordc, C. Daryll, 348
Fore-control of medium, 153-7
France, Anatole, 312
Frankfurt (Mam), 72, 74
Fraser-Hams,D. F., 113
Frazer, SirJ. G., 88, 88 ft1
‘Freedom’ of Halbcrstadt, 342-3
Frey, Charles, 301-5, 310

Friedrichs trassc, Berlin, 63, 69, 319
From India to the Planet Mars, 118,
118 ft1

Fronczek,Janusz, 15s
Fry, J., 278-85

G., Magdeleine, 267-9, 269 n1**
Gaillarcl.Joanny, 100-1
Ganges (river), 360
Garlic to scare vampires, 328
Gamer, Charles, 255
Garrett, Mrs Eileen, 12, 77
Garrick Theatre, 268
Gas-lighter phenomenon, 58
‘Gef\ the ‘talking mongoose’, 85-97
Gcley, Gustave, 154 ft1, 298
Geneva, 37 ft1
Genoa, 330

‘Gcordic’ (‘spirit’), 179
Georgia Magnet, The, 270 n1
‘Gerald’, ‘spirit’ control, 131-9
German witchcraft, 334-45
Ghost-hunter’s kit (description of),
31ft1

‘Ghost Stamp’, 180, 187, 196
Gibbs, R. E , 374-5
Gibson, Walter B , 270ft1
Giddings, Mr. and Mrs. A. J , 256
Girl Medium Baffles all the Scientists,

iJSft*

Gladstone, W. E., 191
Gladstone, Mrs. W. E., 181
Gians penis as an aid to ‘phenomena*,
189

Glasgow, 255 it*

Glimpses of the Next State, 168 it*
Goadby, Arthur, 88 ft4
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 335-
40

Goethejah celebrations, 334-43
Goethenacht on the Brocken, 334-41
Goldberg, Dr., 357-9
Golden Bough, The, 88, 88 n1
Goldney, Mrs. A. Peel, 35, 156

Gore, ,306-11

Gottingen, 341-2

388

GSttmgen University, ja, a 35
‘GrandHoteT, 65-70
Grand Hotel, 65
Grands Boulevards, 77-80
Great Aktsch Glacier, 50
Great Bealmgs, Suffolk, a8 n1
Great Plague, relic of, 30
Gregory, Sir Richard, 170, 285
Gnincwald, Fritz, 298
Gruyirej, 301
Guildford, Surrey, 168 n4
Gunn, J. A., 368

Haas, Gaston, 258, 298-311
Haiti, 68

Halbcrstadt, 52, 342-3
Hale, Lord Chief Justice, 97, 323,
322 ir1

Halifax, Viscount, 12 n*

Hall (Innsbruck), 50, 286
Hallett, James, 324, 327-8
Hamlet, 37
Hampstead, 347
Hanover, 65

Hansdsen (‘talking’ horse), 88
Hanussen, Erik Jan, 259, 259 «*, 3»9.
351, 35i «*

Hardwick, W. W.,134
Hartig, Rudolf, 340
Harz Mountains, 52-4, 334-43
Haraer Verkehrsvcrhand, 338
Hastmapura, India, 362-3
Hatfield, 347

Hat Rudt Schneider in Paris gexkunn-
delt? 2 34 »*

Haunting of Cashen's Gap, 97 ft1
Havel (river), Germany, 67
Hayward’s Heath, Sussex, 42
Heald,C. B.,237
Heber Anns, Wtoxeter, 44
Heller, Robert and Haidde, 255
Hellerism, 2j j is*

Henry, T. Shckchun, 179 n1
Heredia, C. M. de, 203
Hexentanzplatz. Harz, 336, 338
‘High German Black Book’, 335-7

Index

Hill, Sir Leonard, 379
Hillah, Arabia, 351
Hindenburg, Paul Ludwig von, 322
Hindu fire-walking, 356-63
History of Inventions, 255 n*

Hitler, Adolf, 228
Hofsten, Nils von, 233
Holbrook, Leroy H., 2 55 «*
Hollywood, 266, 266 n1
Home, D. D., 149, 149 id
Homer (poet), 1x6
Hope, William, 169
Hopwood, Frank L., 364
Horace (poet), 336
Horder, Sir 11101110* (now Lord),
2J7.24I

Houghton, Georgina, 198, 198 id
Houses of Parliament, 1 74
Hove, Sussex, 1 14
How to Go to a Medium, 1 59 id
How to Pose as a Strong Man, 270 n1 *
Howe, EUic, 278-85

Howell, , 197 n*

Hudson, F A , 197-8
Hulsc, Mary, 17-24
Hunt, E. H , 374. 376-7
Hurst, Lulu, 269, 269 ns
Huxley, Julian, 91, 170
Hymns at a stance, 1 14
Hyperesthesia, examples of, 259-60,

272-85

Hypnose uni Suggestion (film), 297-
3IJ

Hypnotism, experiments in, 298-3 1 1
Hypnotism, meaning of, 142

1 Know Your Thoughts, 256 «•

Ilford, Ltd., 206
Illusion and Disillusion, 257 /d
Ilbuionismo, 253 n1
Imperial Dry Plate Co , Ltd , 169
Impersonation, 143
Indian Rope Trick, 344-54
Innsbruck, 258, 286-96

Interlaken, 51,297-311

‘Invisible man’, the, 109-1 1

389

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter

bring, James T., 8 5-97

Irving, Mn.J.T., 89-97

Irving, Mitt Voirrcy, 86-97

Irwin, H. C.,11,12

Isle of Man, 85-97, 331

Isle of Man, absence of fauna, 95 it1

Jably (alleged wizard), 331

Jackson, ,278-85

James D, 323

James, Mrs. St.John (Man medium)
1M~9

Japanese magic mirrors, 194.-6
jasper the Hermit’, 326
Jastrow, Joseph, 176, 176 n1
Joad, C. E. M„ 75-6, 314, 338-43.
347. 373

Johannesburg, 170
Journal, Am. S.P.R , 77 n*, 88 ft4,
lot n1, 158 ft1. 180 n1, 208 it1,
228 it1, 259 n1

Journal, British S.P R., 169 n*.»,

202 ft1

Junagadh, Indu, 378 it*
Jungfraujoch, jo, 130

K Manor, 2 5-3 J

Kahn, Ludwig, 289
Kansas, 261

Kappstcin, Theodor, 306
Karachi (conjurer), 344-51
‘Karlyn’, 266 it*

Kassel, 336-7

Keeler, W M ,171,171 n1, 193-4
Kelvin, Lord, 176
Kensington Gardens, 174
Kenya witchcraft, 332
Keys, phenomenal happenings with,
28

'King, John’, 161

’King, Katie’, 161

’King of die Passes’ (Man), 122

Knocbe, FrSulem Gerda, 52-4

Kohn-Abrest, Dr., 101

Korzarowa, Frau Dr., 306

Kotsowski, Doctor, 306

Kotzian, Josef, 138
KraQ, Karl, 227-8
Kraus, Josef, 259
Kronfeld, A., 306

Kuda Bux, 14, 312-21, 355-6, 363-
80

Kulturfilm, 297-3 n
Kur-bo-roo, Red Indian bear, 88
Kyder (conjurer), 344-51

Lambert, R. S., 52-4, 92-7, 272-3,
314, 316-7, 346-8, 363, 368, 373
Lambert, Mrs. R. S., 272
Lancaster camera, 1 8-24
Lancet, The, 271 it*, 374 it1
Laplace, Jeanne, 209-25
Lauterbrunnen, 130
Lavatcr, Ludwig (Lewes), 37, 37 n1
Lc Mdntoire camera, 18-24
Leaves from a Psychtst's Case-Book,
is, 12 it1, 63 n1, 71 n1, 149 it*.

150 it*. 153 n\ 154 n1, 162 n1,
163 it*. 168 it*. 170 it3, 197 it1,
208 it1. 249 n1, 259, 286 n1

Lee, H ,379

Lchrte Station, Berlin, 67
Leipzig, 65, 107, 234 »*, 355
Leisure Hour, 270 n*

Lewis, L. Elizabeth, 361, 361 ft1
Leymane, Mme. M. P. G., 168 i£
Libel, law of and haunted houses, 36
Lina (medium), 269
Light IJ7H1, 170 n**4, 181
Light, Visibk and Invisible, 194 it1-*
Lisbon, 82

Listener, The, 13, 92, 137 it1, 138 it1.*,
175, 186, 253 it1, 271 n4, 345.

345 n1, 346, 346 it1, 347. 349.
349 i*1, 350, 350 n1. 365 it1. 368,
379. 379 n1
Liverpool, 93, 147
Lodge, Sir Oliver, 12, 12 11*, 99,

257 *«l

Lodge, Raymond, 12, 12 it*
Lombroso, Cesare, 312
Lost Chord, The, 268

Index

3 90

LSachen-Liicke Pats, 51
Lourdes, 308
Lowry, Gerald, 263
Lulu Hum ( The Georgia Wonder),
269**

Lunar Apennines, 178
Luther, Martin, 53
Lyons, France, 100

MacCarthy, C. P., 180-2, 182 id,
I8j

Macdonald, Alan, 88 id
McDougaQ, William, 314, 316

McGregor, ■, 217-18

McIndoe.J. B., 170, 170 id
Mdvor-Tyndall, Alexander J., 14,
259,278-85

McKenzie, Mrs. Hewar, 1 57 id
Mackenzie, William, 88 ft*. 1 54 id
MacMahon, Avenue, Pans, 333
Macphenon, Margaret, 1 12 it1
’Macpbcrson, Sandy’, 109-1 1
Mace.C. A., 373
Mace, Mrs. C. A., 373
Maeterlinck, Maurice, 88 id, 227 id
MoguBex (The), 238 n1
Magic Circle, 170 n1
Magic Island (The), 68 id
Magic mirrors, 194-6
Magicians’ Club, 256
Magnetic Lady, The, 270 id
Magnm, £nulc, 268, 268 id
MaWtz, 14, 259-60, 272
‘Man from Oshkosh’, 104-7
Man with the Multiple Mind, The,
271 it*

Mannheim, 88, 88 it*

MaraDet, M., 271
Marconi valves, 239
Marggrabowa, E. Prussia, 329
Maria-Theresiensoaac, Innsbruck,
*93

Manoo, 14, aj9»*7**7
Mars madune, 1 19-20
‘Min' mediums, 117-29
Man (planet), 13, 117-30

Marylebone, 345
Maskelyne.J. N., 270 id
Maskclync, Nevd, 257 id
MattriaUsations-PhSnomene, 179 id
Maxse, Sir Ivor, 354
Medical examination of a medium,
IS4

Mediumship and die law, 98-9
Meme Lebenslmie, 259 id
Mellon, Mrs. J. B., 179
Melting wax phenomenon, 77-80
Melton, F. R-, 104, 104 id
Mesmerism True — Mesmerism False,
271 id

Meyer, Stefan, 233
Michelangelo, 12
Microphotograph, meaning of,

1 99

Mind over matter experiments, 107-8
Mmd {The) and its Place in Nature,
II id

Minehead, 41

Minsk, 60

Mica, 232,235

‘Mohawk Indians’, 1 14 id

Mohr, A. vor, 340

Mona, sheepdog, 93, 96

Monarchs and Muscle, 270 id

Mongoose, talking, of the Isle of

Man, 13. 85-97

M on tesp an, Madame de, 334
Moor, Edward, 28 id
Moore, W. Usborae, 168, 168 n*
More Muscle Reading, 255 id
Moms, Mrs Meung, 99
Morrison, B., 34-5
Morton, Dr. Eva, 272
Moss, George H., 169
Mourne, mountains of, 95
Moynagh, Ehgby. 368-70, J7S-6,
379

Mrs. Deane, a Cat, and a Catastrophe,
170 s d

Muhamed (* talking’ horse), 88
Muller, Catherine Blue (Man
medium), 117-8

Confessions of

Multiple personality, 143
Mumkr \ Spirit ’ Photograph Case,
168 it*

M under, William H.t 168, 168 it1
Munich, 47-9, 179, 179 «*, 227,241,
269

Murray, Gdbert, 264
Museum, haunted, 75-6
‘Musical Medium’, 239-60, 267-9,
269 fP-*-1

Musical Medium, The, 269 tt*

Myers Exposed Agatn? 170 n4
Myers, F.W.H.. 269
Myers, John, 170, 170 tP, 171

Nash's Magazine, 77, 77 nl
Nasnnarki (fire- walkers), 335 n1
Natal Advertiser, 357
Natal fire-walking, 356-60
National Geographic Magazme, 359 id,
361 n1

National Laboratory of Psychical
Research, 9, 35, 38,87 tP, 100-1,
13 1-9, 15 J »*, 227 «*, 228-36,

233 "l t. 234 »*. 2J4 "*► 256.
260-2, 293
Nature, 285, 374 nl
Nelson, N.Z , 225
Neue Freie Presse, 233 fP
Neues 8 Uhr Blatt, 23 3 rP
New York, 176 n1, 200 »P, 203 ip,
255. 255 «*. 332
Nru> Zealand Advertiser, 1 12 fi1
Neu* Zealand Observer, 1 1 2 it1
Nicholl.J. M , 162
North Regional Station (B.B.C.),
97 n*

Norwich, 322

Notr-taker’s duty it stance, 151-2
Nouvelles Observations sue un Cos de
Somnambulisme, 1 18 it1
Nun, alleged ghost of, 26-30
Nun’s Walk, the, 26-30
Nusslem, Heinrich, 77,77 tP

i Ghost-Hunter 391

Occult Committee (Magic Circle),
170 ft1

Of Ghostes and Spirites Walking by
Hyght, 37, 37 fP
Ofcnch, H., 271 w4
‘Olga’ (spint), 227
Onondaga Indians, 332
Oo martini (Martian lady), 124-8
Opinion, L’, 154 fP
Optical ‘magic’, 109-11
Orient Express, 71-4
Oshkosh, Wis., 104-7
Oslo, 82,211
Ossowiecki, Stephan, 289
Ostcnd, 73-5
Our Secrets! 254 ft1, 257 fP
Oxford, 306

Oxford House Theatre, 345

Paasch, Doctor, 306
Paix, Cafe de b (Pans), 76-80
Palladium music hall, 261-2, 264,
266

Palmer, W.H.,253
Pandus (Indian riders), 362-3
Pannctt, C. A , 373-6, 374 iP, 377
Paris, 76-80, 85, ior-3, 154 ft1, 168,
168 »», 209-25, 333-4
Pans, ‘Black Mass’ in, 333-4
Panser-Pbtz, Berlin, 66-7
Paropnc percepoon, alleged, 312-21
‘Panon Magna’, Shropshire, 15-24
Passau, 74

Pauchet, Victor, 101
Pawlecnoos (Martian giant), 125-8
Pearson's Magazine, 270 fP
Pension ghost, the, $1-2
People l Have Read, a$$ iP
People, The, 256 is*

Peraval, The Misses, 32-5
Pcrcival, Thomas, 26-35
Peraval, Walter, 26-35
Perry, Nelson W., 270 /P
Peyod, 85
Pfeffer, C. A., 340
‘Pharaoh’s rats’, 87

Observer, The, 378. 378 fp

Index

392

Phenomena of Materialisation, 17911*
Phenomena of Radi Schneider, 228 it
Ph/nomines btmmeux, 1 54 it
Photographic control of medium,
153,208

Photographic Times, 176
Photographic tricks used by me-
diums, 171-008

Photomicrograph, meaning of,

199 n1

Physical Amusements, 2$3 it
Piccadilly Circus, 174
Pioquart, Mmc. Eugtfme, ioi-j
Pinetd dc Wddalk, Giuseppe, 253,
253 it , 254-5

Pious Meditation Upon a Broomstick,
322

Plymouth, 345
‘Poltergeist girl’, 71
Poltergeist, meaning of word, 143
Poltergeist phenomena, 15-24, 26-

35,42-52.55-64

Pompeii, 42
Possession, 143

Potsdam, 67
Poulenc Frires, 80
Prague. 295. 328

‘Prairie Flower’, 'spirit' guide, 114,

114 ■*, 11 5-6
Prato (Florence), 330

‘Prcecc, Henri’, 77, 79
Preliminary Studies of a Vaudeville
Telepathist, 272 it
Prince, W F., 171, 171 233

Prirox, Czechoslovakia, 1 38
Proceedings, Am.S.P.R.,88n*,i7i n*
Proceedings, British S.P.R , 155 it,
16911*, 234 !**•«

Proceedings, National Laboratory of
Psychical Research, 254 «*.
271 it, 27a it
Prods desSpirites, 168 it
Pruden, Mrs. Laura A., 162
Przsbram, K., 233
Pseudopod, meaning oC 142

‘Psyche’, 179 it
Psyche, 226 it
‘Psychic child’, 82-4
‘Psychic factor’, ii, 11 n1
Psychic Photography, 1 80 it, 208 n1
Psychic Photography (Magic Circle).
170 a1

Psychic Research, n it, tot it, 149 it,
15311*

Psychic Science, 169 it, 182 n1
Psychic Telephone, A, 104 nl
Psychometry, meaning of, 141
Psychomotormeter, the, 124
Psykisk Oplysmngsfotemng, 138
Pulbo rough, Sussex, 324
Purmer, R„ 335

Quebec, 220, 222—4

Queen Mary College, London, 3 14

R 101 airship, 11, 12
Radio-active aids to 'spirit' photo-
graphy, 202-6

Radio-Active Compounds and Their
Use in Psychical Research, 1 58 nl
Radio set. experiments with a. 237-
5»

‘Radio la' Company, Pans, 239-52
Radiovuor (Parent), Ltd , 231
‘Rainbow man. the’, 154
Rambler's Recollections. A, 2 J6 nl
Rampling-Rose, W , 169, 169 n*
Rasmussen, Anna. 149, 1 49 it
‘Raw-head and bloody bones’, 66
Raymond Lodge, 12, 12 it
Raymond; or. Life After Death, 1 2 n*
Raymond; Some Criticisms, 1 2 it*
Reese, Bert, 289, 295
Regurgitation and the Duncan Medtum-
dop.iSSit, 164 n1
Rekhpost, 233 ft1

Reliquary prayer (for exorcising),

35

Rcpkow, Eyke von, 53
Report of an Investigation mto Spirit-
Photography, 169 it

Confessions of a Ghost-Hunter 393

Report of a Stance with David Duguid,
i6in*

Report on Two Experimental Fire-
WaUu, A, 38011*

Researches in rite Phenomena of Spirit-
ualism, 161 tri

Revelations of a Spirit Medium, 2 54 n*
Review of Reviews, 162
Revue Mtlapsydtique, 154 tri
Revue Spirite, 168 ft*

Reynolds, Gresham, 380 n1
Rhine (river), 335
Richards, Mrs. Henry, 35,278-9
Richards, Webb, 358-9
Richer, Charles, 209, 269, 312
Ridley, Frederick, 272
Riek, Fredcnk, 329
Robert Heller, His Dotngs, 255 ft*
Robcrt-Houdin.Jcan Eugene, 254
Robinson, H , 26-34
Robinson, H Mansfield, 124-8
Robinson, W. E. (‘Chung Ling
Soo’), 163 w1, 200 rri
Rochas d'Aiglun, E A Albert de,
269, 269 n*

Rodina], 173, 184, 208
Rolf of Mannheim, 88 n*

Rolf (‘talking’ dog), 88, 88 fl*
Romans, Jules, 312, 312 «*, 313, 318
Roman ghosts, 42-4
Romany charlatans, 326
Rome, 253 ti*

Rome, Georgia, 269 n4
Romeo, 328
Rope Tnck, 344-54
Roux, Monsieur. 77-*o
Royal Magazine, 269 n*

Royal Society of Medicine, 237
Rudi Schneider, 1 52 it1, 163 «*, 228 n*
Rumanian medium, 71

‘Russe 11, Arthur’ Jspmt control, 131-9

Russell. A. S , 271 «*, 374

S.-G..J, S„ 27011*

Sochsenspiegel, 53

St Bartholomew's Hospital Journal, 368

St. Bartholomew’s Hospital Medical
College, 364

St. Germain, Boulevard, Pans, 80
St. Just, Zorich, 258, 298
St. Louis Globe Democrat, 270 ft1
St Patrick’s Channel, 95
Salusbury, F. G. H., 61-2
Salzburg, 288, 295
Sanguine tti, L. R., I54"1
Santa Monica, California, 258
Sceptic, The, 1$

Schloss Fait ens tern, 52-4
Schneider, Rudi, 87, 87 ft1, 152, 226-
36

Schneider, Willi, 150 tr, 226-7,

227 »\ 23 5, 241, 259, 259 tri

Schrenck-Notzing, Albert Freiherr
von, 47, 152, 179, 179 ft*, 226-8,
269, 269 n1

Science Siftings Annual, 256 it*
Scientific American, 203, 203 ft1, 237
Scientists Plan a Signal Station to call
Mars, 128 n1

Scrying, meaning of, 142
Scabrook, W B.,68*1
Scaled chamber at Falkenstein, 53-4
Stance Table for the Study of Teleki-
nesis, A, 1 Sin1

Secret de la Cage Spmte, 256 it*

Secrets of Staff Hypnotism, 266 11*
‘Sequah, the Great’, 114H1
Scrangoon Road Temple, Singa-
pore, 361

Shakespeare, William, 12, 37

Sheffield, 180

Shephard J.B H.,269

‘Shooting’ a ghost, 23

Short Title Catalogue, 254 it*. 272 n1

Shrewsbury, 44

Shropshire bell ‘phenomena’, 38;

Roman ghosts, 42-4
Shropshire Poltergeist, a, 1 5-24
‘Silvester, Dr.’, 271
Singapore, 356
Singapore fire-walking, 361-3
I Sitwell, Sir George, 161

Index

394

Sleeping-car, haunted, 71-4
Smethwick, 129
Smith, Dr., 3 58
Smith, Edward, 55-64
‘Smith, H<5ltnc\ ‘Mars’ medium,
117-8

Smith, die Misses, 55-64
Smith, Walter, 55-64
Smith, W. Whatcly, 241
Soal, S G., 262, 272-7, 272 id, 278-
85.314,373

Soap phenomenon, 32, 61-2
Sociifte Fran^aisc Radio-Electnquc,
239 n1

Society for Psychical Research
(British), 155 w1, 169 fi***, 202 id,

234, 234 n*-4, 241

Somersetshire mansion, phenomena
m, 39-42

Some Revelations as to * Raymond ’,
12 H*

Sorcellerie et la Seierue des Poisons, La,
334 n1

South Africa, 170, 170 id
South Downs, 324
South London Press, 15 id
Spandau (Berlin), 67
Sperry arc lamps, 1 30
Spirit Medium in a Motor Smash,
II2ld

‘Spirit’ photograph tricks, 172-208
Spirit State Writing, 163 id, 200 id
Spiritualists and scientific investiga-
tion, 167

Spiritualists’ National Union, 170
Spook land, 179 id
Spree (nver), Berlin, 67
Stagheno, Italy, 330
Stead, William T„ 162
Stemscfancidcr, Hermann, 351 id
Stella C, 46, 46 id, 47
SlrllaC., 46 nl
‘Sterilising’ medium, 100
Strand, London, 81
Strand Magazme, 270 id, 271 it*
Strange (Meal, A, 378 id

Strange, True and Dreadjul Relation ,
A, 70

Strong Man, The, 270 id
Study of Trance, Mustle Reading . .
*55 n*

Stumbling ghost, a, 1 5-24
Sturgess, E M , 107-8
Stuttgart, 269 id
Sudre, Rcn6, 101 , 101 id, 260
Suffolk Assizes, 322
Suggestion Magazine, 255 11*

Sulphate of copper used for trick,

104-7

‘Summerland’, the, 12, 1 15
Sunday Dispatch, 1 55 id, 1 70
Supplementary Report on the Keeler-
Lee Photographs, 171 id
Surrey haunting, 44-6
Sussex love-tokens, 324-5
Svengalis, Three, 256, 256 id, 266,
266 id

Swift, Jonathan, 322
Swiss Alpine Club, 50
Sydenham, Lord, 378 id
Sydney. NSW.i 79 id
Symington, H. W , 278-85
Symington, K , 280-5

Tactile clairvoyance, meaning of,
«4*

Tahra Bey, 309
Takapau, N.Z., 81
Talking’ animals, 85-97
Talking Mongoose, the, 85-97
Tamer Lectures, 1 1 id
Tavlor.L W, 168 id
Telegraphing to Mars, 129-30
Telepathy, meaning of, 142
Teleplasm, meaning of, 143 ; fraudu-
lent, 164

Temperature of fire in fire-walking,
375

Tenneguin, Abel, 330
Terms used in psychical research,
meaning of, 141-3
Terms, William, 46

Confessions of <

Thai Poosaxn (Hindu ceremony),
3S7

Theatre ghosts, 46*7
Therm (Innsbruck), 288-95
Thetencnstrasse, Baden, 51-2
Thermal variations cause ‘knock-
ing*’, 38-9

Thinking Animals , 88 n*

Third Intemanonal Congress for
Psychical Research, 101
Thimng, Hans, 71
ThomaUa, Curt, 306
Thompson, Silvanns P.,194, 194«t,>>
I9S

Thought-Reader’s Thoughts, A, 255
id

Thought-Reading as a Case of Mutual
Influence, 270 id

Thought-transference, meaning of,

142

Thousand and One Nights, 88
Three Svcngalu {see Svengalu,
Three)

Tigunne (Zurich), 37 rd
Tillet, Ben, 181
Tilly ard, R J , 220-5
Times, The, 99. 99 J56. 356 id,

363, 365. 376, 376b1. 38° *d
Tipperary, 329

*T ransfiguranon’ medium, 101-3
Traumtdnzerin Magdeleine C., 269
Trees, the (vaudeville telepathists),
256-7

Trinity College, Cambridge, 1 1 nl
Trues du Medium BMvol, 256 rj*
Trumpet phenomena, meaning of,
H3

Two Adventures m Metapsychtcs, 191
id

Two Worlds, 1 $7 "l,t> >7° id

Tyrol, 258, 286-96

Tyrolean wonder-workers, 286-96

Umbilo Temple, Natal, 356-9
University College, Aberystwyth,
348

1 Ghost-Hunter 395

University of London Council for
Psychical Investigation, 9,

164 id, 1 66, 168 «*, 170
27a, 272 »P.*, 314, 348, 355,
363. 373. 380 «*

Unknown Guest, The, 88 id, 227 id

Unorthodox London, 269 id

Unsere Web, 234 id

Unter den Linden, 13, 65-70, 322

Uricon'tum, 42 id

Uncord um (Shropshire), 42

Vampires, charm agamst, 328
Vienna, 51-52, 71, 74, 168 id, 233,
233 >d, 259

Vienna University, 71
Vinton, W.J.,233
Virgil, 380 id

Viroconium (Shropshire), 42
Visum Extra-Rdtnuenne, 312, 318
Voice Control Recorder, 164 id

Voisin, La, 334

Voronoff, Serge, 326
Vurgan, Bulgaria, 355 n1

W (market town), 25, 32-3

Wagram, Avenue de. Pans, 333
Walking Through Foe, 365 rd
Walpurgisnacht, 335, 340
War of the Worlds, The, 122, 122 nx
Washington, D.C., 359 361 id

Watcrbury watch-case, 21-4
Waterhouse, E. S.,373
Wax, melting, phenomenon, 77-80
Wax, melting point of, 80 n1
Weatherly, L. A , 270 n1
Webb, Miss Nella, 266 id
Weiss, Ehnch, 321
Weiss, Max, 319-**

Wells, H.G., 122
Welsh witch-doctors, 332
Wenham.Jane, 323
Wcmigcrodc, 340-2
West, Cyril. 55-64
West, Mrs. Harold, 55-64
West Saxons, 42

396 Index

Weyer, Ober&ttcireicfa, 235 Wright, Thomas, 42 it1

Wheathampstead, Hem., 347-8 Wroxeter, Shropshire, 4 2

*White Lad/'ofFalkcnstem, 52-4 ****

Williams, W. £., 348 X, Captain, 88-pa

Windsor Magazine, 257 it1 X, Madame £ eyeless sight’), 313

Wine "phenomena', 33 X, Madame (hystenac). 13 1-9

Wmtergartcn music-hall, Berlin, X, Miss (clairvoyant), 61-2

68-9 X, Mr (Man medium), 118-22

Witchcraft and Vagrancy Acts, 98 Xenog lossy, meaning of, 142

Witchcraft m Germany, 334-43 ‘X-ray vision’, 312-21
Witchcraft, modern, 322-43

Witchcraft Ordinance, Kenya, 332 Z, Doctor, 134-7
Witch-hunting in Han, 341-2 Z, Mrs. (Mars medium), 122-4

Witkm, Dr.. 357-9 Zaayer, Manus J., 88 w4

*W«ard of the North*. 254 Zanag, Julius, 254, 254 «*, 15

Wolff, Doctor. 306 291

Wood, shrinking, causes 'pheno- Zanf (‘talking’ horse), 88

mena’, 38-9 Zomahs, the, 256, 256 «*, 257

Woodbndge, Suffolk, 28 n1 Zugun, Eleonore, 63 , 71 , 209

Worcester College, Oxford, 306 Zurich, 37 »*, 258, 298

Wrckin. the (Shropshire), 44